A Mother's Love
by Koinaka
Summary: A mother will do anything to protect her child. Lily Potter is no exception. The only thing she didn't count on were the long stretching ramifications of her actions.
1. Prologue

A/N: This is a new story idea that has been plaguing me for a while. I admit that I have always been fascinated with the idea of Lily and Severus together and Severus being Harry's father, though, for the most part I remain unsatisfied with the fanfictions I've read on the subject -- my own attempt included. Anyway -- please bear with me as I muddle through!

Summary: A mother will do anything to protect her child. Lily Potter is no exception. The only thing she didn't count on were the long stretching ramifications of her actions.

Pairings: Past Lily/Severus, Lily/James, no pairings decided for Harry and any of the gang.

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. I do, however, own the few - well, one - original characters.

Warning: May be highly AU though I will attempt to keep it as IC as possible with the exception of Harry who will not be like Canon!Harry given he grew up in a completely different environment.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Prologue:

In which Lily makes a decision

Lily Potter nee Evans stumbled along the darkened pathway to the house being careful not to jar the sleeping infant in her arms. It was nearly a half-mile from the nearest apparition point to the front door of the majestic manor house, but now they were nearly there.

A quick _tempus_ told her that she must hurry. James would return home in less than an hour, and he must not discover that she had gone. He would be furious with her for leaving the safety of the Fidelius Charm.

She took a deep breath, but before she could raise her hand to knock on the door, it flew open.

"Come in," bellowed a deep voice. "Hurry up, you fool of a woman," the voice added when Lily hesitated momentarily. She summoned all of her Gryffindor courage and stepped into the room, throwing back the hood of her cloak as she did.

The furnishings in the foyer she found herself in were much more elaborate than anything the young woman had ever seen before, and she felt a pang of despair at the realization that Severus – her beloved Severus – had never experienced this. Instead, he had been forced to live in near squalor with his mother and abusive father.

The man, Severus Prince – _her _Severus's uncle and namesake – stepped out of the shadows and gave her a speculative look. He was tall and thin like her Severus was, and had the same inky black hair, though his was streaked with grey. His eyes were the same fathomless obsidians that both her son and Severus shared.

"So, we meet at last, Mrs. Potter," drawled the man. "I take it that's the boy?" He gave a jerky nod to the child in her arms.

"Yes, yes, of course. This is Harry," she replied, her voice growing steadier despite her anxiety. It was one thing to make these plans, but quite another to put them into motion. James would never forgive her – she knew that without a doubt – as for her, well, she would miss him always, but she knew that it must be done. She had no misgivings about her role in all of this. She would not outlive this war – if, indeed, she even outlived this month – but there was still a chance for her son – _their _son.

Prince sneered. "Such a filthy, common, mudblood name. You do realize I will change that, don't you?"

Lily's face flushed softly with anger, but she buried it deep inside. She hadn't thought he'd change the name, but in the end, it was such a little thing. There was no use in protesting it now. It had taken weeks for him to even agree to meet with her. She did not want this meeting to end before it even truly began. Instead, she simply nodded. "Of course," she answered him.

"Well, let's see him, then," the man said after a moment, holding his arms out to receive the boy.

Lily smoothed back the sleeping boy's ebony locks before, reluctantly, handing him over.

The man studied him for several long moments, and finally, after finding whatever it was that he seemed to be looking for, he handed the child back.

"And your husband, he is aware of your… indiscretion with my nephew, is he not?" asked the man in cold tone of voice, the smirk on his face growing as Lily blanched.

"Yes, of course he is," she snapped. "How could he not be?" There was too much of Severus in Harry for him to be James's son, but he had always known there was no possibility of his being the father.

"And my nephew? Is he aware that he has sired a half-blood bastard?" continued Prince.

Lily's eyes narrowed as her anger grew. "How _dare_ you," she sputtered. "I thought you said you would help us – him!"

"So I did, and so I _will_, but come now, girl, surely you knew what my feelings would be on the matter?" asked Prince, savagely, grabbing her arm. "You listen to me now, girl, and you listen closely: my sister was disinherited for taking up with that filthy muggle, Tobias Snape, and I've never cared one whit for her half-blood son. The _only _reason I have agreed to help you is because I am growing old and, without an heir, the Ministry will seize control of the Prince estate. I will take him and keep him out of harm's way, as I've agreed, but beyond that, I will raise him as I see fit, and if that is not acceptable to you, you may show yourself out. Now, I ask you again – is my nephew aware that the boy, this boy, is his son?"

"No," she said, brokenly, "he doesn't know. He's too far gone, too lost in the Dark Arts, too deeply entrenched with… Voldemort. I didn't know if he could be trusted."

Prince sucked in a harsh breath at the mention of the Dark Lord, but he nodded tersely. "See that he remains ignorant."

"All right," she replied.

"Are there any others who know of his parentage?"

"No," she murmured softly. "No one else knows. We've been in hiding since his birth, and even those who've been around him – just our friends – don't know. If they have suspicions, they've never voiced them."

He pulled a thick packet of parchment out from his robes and pressed them into her hand. "I've indicated where a signature – your magical signature, that is – is needed. Simply touch each mark with your wand to endorse it," he explained at her confused look.

She did so, her green eyes darting quickly across the page reading as much as she could.

"Very well, I think that should do. Give him here," he said when she was finished.

Lily gasped. "Now?"

"Yes, now," said Prince, mockingly. "Unless you've changed your mind and wish to keep him? I care not; either way, just quickly make a decision and be gone."

Closing her eyes against the tightening in her chest, she pulled the sleeping boy closer to her. He had slept soundly through the entire exchange, as he always did. Such a good baby, he was. She inhaled his sweet scent and placed a kiss on the top of his head, twisting a lock of his hair around one of her fingers before handing him to Prince.

"How touching," he sneered. "Now, I believe that concludes our business, Mrs. Potter. If you've nothing further, then it is time for us to part ways."

"Wait!" cried Lily as the door opened.

"Yes?" asked the man impatiently.

"Just… please, may I have one more night with my son? Just one more and then I promise to return him tomorrow. I know James isn't his real father, but he's as good as. He deserves to say goodbye."

"I think not," replied Prince, cruelly.

"But – he's…"

"No longer your concern as you have just signed over all of your parental rights to the boy, now, good day, Madam."

Without further ado, Lily was pushed out of the door. She blinked furiously at the tears that had welled up at the door's resounding _thud_.

"It's for the best," she murmured to herself as she made her way back to the apparition point. Harry would be safe now, away from Voldemort and all those who served him. Even Dumbledore had not been able to promise them that. Her own happiness was a small price to pay for the life of her son.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Anything recognizable comes from Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows. I love this scene, so I had to use some of it - where I could, that is.

Summary: A mother will do anything to protect her child. Lily Potter is no exception. The only thing she didn't count on were the long stretching ramifications of her actions.

Pairings: Past Lily/Severus, Lily/James, no pairings decided for Harry and any of the gang.

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. I do, however, own the few - well, one - original characters.

Warning: May be highly AU though I will attempt to keep it as IC as possible with the exception of Harry who will not be like Canon!Harry given he grew up in a completely different environment.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter One

In which history is changed and a prophecy is misinterpreted

The small cottage at Godric's Hollow was silent when she arrived home, but she found James sitting on the couch, staring aimlessly at the floor.

"Where were you, Lily?" he asked, softly, not even raising his eyes to meet hers.

"I went to see a friend," she said, just as softly, the lie flowing freely off of her tongue. The months in hiding had been hard on the young couple, and Lily had a feeling that their marriage would not survive the war – if they, themselves, survived it. They had never fully recovered from her time with Severus.

Severus had been her closest friend since childhood – her only friend during childhood, truth be known. Of course, Hogwarts and separate houses had taken toil on that friendship. Lily had been just as much to blame for their break in friendship as Severus. She had allowed herself to be swept away by the wizarding world's propaganda, starting a relationship with the young, gallant light wizard James Potter instead of the scrawny, cunning boy with a penchant for dark wizardry, Severus Snape.

After graduating form Hogwarts, however, Lily had taken some time for herself, away from James and the wizarding world in general. As a muggleborn, Lily's life was a constant balancing act. Her adoring parents couldn't be prouder of their daughter – witch or not – while her beloved sister would scarcely talk to her. Within the wizarding world, she was a very promising witch who had received O's in all of her N.E.W.T. classes, the sweetheart of James Potter, and a devout activist who did not abide any form of prejudice. Most of this she could not share with her parents, her other relatives, or her childhood friends as she was sworn to secrecy. This had veritably taken its toil on her, so she had fled to her parents home.

She rekindled her friendship with Severus after running into him in muggle London a month after leaving the wizarding world. What had started off as simply friendship soon became much more than that. Severus, after all, had been her friend since before she'd entered Hogwarts. Her closest friend until he'd uttered that horrid word back in her fifth year. It was easy, almost ridiculously so, to be with Severus. And for two months, they lived within a bubble of their own creation. They didn't speak of the war or of school, merely content to be with one another.

It had all changed one night when he had returned to her, too weary to stand, covered in blood. He hadn't told Lily where he'd been but the article in the _Daily Prophet _told her everything she'd needed to know as did the cool indifference he seemed to exude when she'd asked if he planned to do so again.

It was then that Lily knew they could never be together because there was a tiny life growing inside her, depending on little Lily Evans to do everything in her power to save it - even if it meant giving _Severus _up. She'd returned to James who had only been too happy for her to return. Within a month they were married. James had accepted Harry as his son, but Lily had seen the way he looked at him at times, a wistful expression on his face. Every day Harry grew to resemble Severus more and more, and his appearance was a constant reminder to James that he had not been the only one to hold Lily's heart.

"Where's Harry, Lils?" he asked when he finally looked at her, noticing for the first time since her arrival that their son was not there.

"I – James, promise me you'll listen until I've finished explaining…"

A loud noise at the door rendered her silent, her green eyes widening fearfully.

James jumped up, gripping his wand tightly in his hands, a fierce look upon his face. "Lily, go! It's him! Go! Run! _Now!_ I'll hold him off!"

With one last lingering look at her husband, Lily ran up the stairs, stumbling as she went. She went into Harry's room on a whim. He was no longer there, but his presence remained in this room, his scent remained here, on the sheets of his cot, on his clothing. It permeated the air and comforted her. She would die, yes, but her son would live. That would be enough for her.

She reached into her pocket and fingered the potion vial contained there. It was a memory potion – a rather dark one, in fact – that would erase all of the memories she had pertaining not only her son, but Severus at well. She may not agree with his decision to become a Death Eater, but she didn't want him killed, and if Voldemort knew he had fathered the prophecy child, she had no doubt that he would be killed. It was a last resort – _her _last resort. Because she knew that if it ever came down to taking the potion, her life was nearing its end. She had no qualms about using the potion though the idea of wiping the existence of her son from her mind saddened her, but _but_ she kept repeating in her mind that it was all for him – all for _Harry_. Harry who was hidden away, Harry who would live many more days, Harry who would one day rid the world of a terrible darkness. He would live – even if she never remembered him.

Her breathing was harsh and erratic as she strained to listen to what was going on downstairs. There was a crash and a thud before she heard to unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs. She couldn't waste another moment. She grabbed the vial out of the pocket and after uncorking it, drank it all in one gulp. She shuddered as the potion made its way into her system and a fog descended over her mind, wrapping around her memories.

Her heart thumped nearly painfully in her chest as the door to the nursery was thrown open, and the Dark Lord Voldemort stepped in. She blinked dazedly, her eyes searching around the room frantically. How had she gotten here? _Why_ was she in a child's room?

"Where's the boy?" demanded Voldemort after stalking over to the cot only to discover it empty.

She blinked once more, turning her eyes to the man feared throughout Britain yet she felt no fear. Instead, she felt a fierce determination. "The boy," she repeated. "What boy?"

"What boy? Your son, of course, you filthy little mudblood. Where is Harry Potter?" hissed Voldemort, pointing his wand at her.

"I…" she looked around, trying to make sense of what was going on. She was dizzy, and she felt so disorientated. "I don't have a son." She didn't have. She wouldn't have forgotten having a child, would she? Yet here she was in the middle of a child's bedroom.

"You foolish girl!" snarled Voldemort, his crimson eyes resting on an empty potions bottle. "What have you done?"

In a flash, Voldemort reached out and grabbed Lily, dragging her closer to him. His hand clamped tightly on her face, leaving her no choice but to look where he bade – his piercing crimson eyes.

Lily let out an anguished cry as Voldemort brutally entered her mind, ripping through her memories. Several minutes later, he hissed angrily and let her go.

She was gasping for air when she fell to the floor, a trickle of blood escaped from her ear, marring her pale skin. Her now dull eyes stared unseeing as he aimed his wand at her.

"My, my," said the Dark Lord softly. "Oh but you _are _a clever witch. It's such a pity, really, that you've forced my hand this way. See, you needn't have died at all. I was going to spare you. After all, Lord Voldemort _can_ be generous, and as Severus has been such a faithful servant… but I'm afraid I really cannot allow you to remain living now. I'll have to find another way to reward Severus. Never you mind that. Be assured, Mrs. Potter that I _will_ find your son, and when I do, I will kill him as well."

He took one last look around the room before fixing his cool gaze on the girl in front of him. "_Avada Kedavra,"_ he said almost lazily, and then, Lily Potter knew no more.

* * *

"I thought... you were going... to keep her safe..."

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," said Dumbledore. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Severus's breathing was shallow.

"And her son, Lily's son?" he asked, his voice thick with tears.

Dumbledore was silent. Then, at last, he spoke. "I'm very sorry, Severus."

He let out an anguished cry. "No... no... Lily," he moaned, brokenly.

"Severus," started Dumbledore.

"DON'T!" bellowed Severus. "Gone... dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish...I wish _I _were dead..."

"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore, coldly.

Severu's head had snapped up, aghast at Dumbledore's words and tone, but Dumbledore simply continued.

"Lily's death, and the deaths of her husband and only child, is unfortunate -- a terrible tragedy -- but we mustn't give up. If you loved Lily, truly loved her, you would help me to ensure that her death was not in vain."

The words took several moments to make their way into the fog of grief in his mind.

"What would you have me do?" asked Severus, softly, sounding much older than his twenty-odd years.

"The other prophecy child, Neville Longbottom, still lives. Will you help me to protect him, Severus?"


	3. Chapter 2

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2.  
_

Chapter Two  
In which a prophecy is believed to be fulfilled and Severus Snape receives a surprise

Alice Longbottom had never been so terrified in her life, and that was saying something as she'd spent the better part of a decade in a war-torn country. Her hand was gripping her husband's hand tightly, but he didn't seem bothered by the pain.

"The Potters? Dead?" Frank Longbottom's tone was one of incredulity.

Dumbledore's expression was grave. "Yes."

"All of them - even little Harry?" whispered Alice. Lily and Alic had been close friends since their Hogwarts days.

"I'm afraid so. Lord Voldemort is not one for leaving survivors. However, that is not why I have called you here today. It is my belief that he will next target you."

Alice blanched, and Frank frowned deeply, his brow burrowed with worry.

"What makes you think that?" he questioned. It was no secret that Frank Longbottom was a staunch supporter of the light. As a rookie auror, he had made a career out of eliminating Voldemort's forces, but even then so, he had not done anything more than any other auror had, really. There must be another more reasonable explanation for them moving to the top of his "hit list" so to speak. It wasn't that Frank doubted Dumbledore, not at all, but it still baffled him.

Dumbledore sighed. "There was - no, there _is_ a prophecy - that predicted the defeat of Voldemort at the hands of a boy. Now, the exact wording isn't important, and even he does not know it in its entirety, but what he does know led him to believe that the boy in question was either James and Lily's son, Harry, or -"

"Neville," breathed Alice, horrified. "It is, isn't it? You think that the other boy is Neville!" she accused Dumbledore.

"It matters not what I believe, my dear, but yes, I - along with Voldemort - believe it must be he. He fits the prophecy nicely."

"But," Alice protested, glancing warily at Frank for permission. He nodded slightly, so she continued. "We aren't even sure if Neville is magical! He hasn't shown any signs of it, and I know that Harry was a very magical child. Lily said he'd been summoning things to him and other things since before he was a year old, surely _he_ is the one the prophecy spoke of."

"It's still early, Alice. He may show signs, yet, but as I've said, it matters not what anyone else believes. Voldemort believes it, and that is enough cause for worry. Now that he's eliminated the Potters, he will strike - and strike _hard_ - in order to ensure his longevity. You _must_ go into hiding, for I fear that he will stop at nothing in his pursuit to see you three dead at his hands."

Alice gasped, but Frank squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"No," he replied firmly. "We won't be going into hiding."

Both Alice and Dumbledore stared at Frank at this.

"But why ever not? The Fidelius Charm is very easily cast, and it will protect you," insisted Dumbledore. "It needn't be for long."

"No," repeated Frank. "I won't be allow him to win in such a way. Besides, there are no guarantees, even with the Fidelius, as I'm sure James and Lily would attest to. He's already gotten through it once, hasn't he? There's nothing to stop him from gleaming the information."

"Well, yes, he has," admitted Dumbledore, rather reluctantly. "Only due to the fact that their secret was willingly given up by their secret keeper. He never would have discovered their location otherwise."

"Willingly given is a matter of perspective, Dumbledore, is it not? We both know that Voldemort is merciless and ruthless. If there is information to be had that he wants, well, it's just as you said, he would stop at nothing in order to obtain it. I won't place anyone else further into danger by thrusting that information on them," Frank said.

Dumbledore looked at the young couple, sadly. "So, there is no convincing you?"

"I should think not," said Frank. "This is exactly the sort of thing he thrives on. If we allow him to dictate our lives in such a way, he _wins_. No, we will continue to live our lives as normally as we can in such times. I do thank you for your concern, Albus."

"Yes," echoed Alice, her face still paler than Frank cared to see and her voice shaking slightly. "Thank you. There will be a memorial service for them, won't there?"

"Yes, of course. I'm afraid the news of their passing has not been easy on poor Sirius and Remus, but I should think they will be planning something of the sort. I will be leaving here to speak with them soon, and I will owl you the particulars in the morning if you'd like, though I feel rather certain the entire wizarding world will know by then. The press has been kept at bay only because they are not aware of their deaths yet. It is only a matter of time - and precious little of it - before they learn of it."

"_Oh,_" gasped Alice. "So, it's true then? That little Peter is a Death Eater? I know that they say he was - I read the article in the paper this morning -, but I just assumed that _The Daily_ _Prophet_ must be mistaken. He doesn't seem the type, does he?"

Dumbledore seemed to age in front of them. "It's true," he replied quietly. "It was he that gave Voldemort the location of Lily and James. I have to assume, however, that he had fulfilled his only purpose for Voldemort as it seems rather unlikely that he would allow a trusted follower to be so easily captured."

"I don't understand," said Frank, slowly. "If it is as you say, then why is he not shouting from the rooftops that he has succeeded in killing the Potters? Surely this is something he would relish."

"It does seem like something Tom would do, yes, but I'm afraid I have no explanation as to why he has not done so. I think something did not go quite as he planned. I hope to discover further information, of course, but for now I must beg forgiveness over my ignorance."

Both Alice and Frank nodded, and then Alice stood followed by Frank. "Thank you for your time, Albus, and for telling us in person. It would have been horrid to learn of their deaths in the paper. I'll look for your owl in the morning, and we're certain to see you at whatever service is planned."

Frank also bade farewell, and the young couple quickly left Hogwarts Castle.

Albus Dumbledore was never to see them alive again. By the eve of November the third, Frank, Alice, and Neville Longbottom were dead, but they were not alone, for Voldemort also perished that night though there were none alive who knew exactly the circumstances of his death. It appeared that Alice had given her life for her son's as her body was found directly in front of Neville's cot. It was Dumbledore's belief that this sacrifice left a lasting effect on her son, evoking long thought dormant ancient magic, and when Voldemort turned his wand on the boy, magic could not abide that, and though the boy was not spared, the killing curse Voldemort sent his way rebounded back onto him, killing them both with one fell swoop. To Dumbledore, it was simply the fulfilling of a prophecy.

The wizarding world was soon busy rounding up the strangling followers of the Dark Lord and enjoying a much deserved peace. Life continued on, as it was so apt to do, but the scars left by the war still lingered for many people, for Severus Snape, especially. Like all other known Death Eaters, he had been arrested and sent to the wizarding prison, Azkaban. He only spent a short while behind the walls of the hellish place as Dumbledore vouched for him as soon as he was able, and he was released into Dumbledore's custody, but along with the deaths of the only person he'd ever - and would ever - love was enough to turn Severus into a new person. Dumbledore had been kind enough to extend to him a job offer, one that would make use of his talents as a Potions Master, and September of 1982 found Severus Snape the youngest ever professor and the Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

For Severus, peace was elusive. It was as though he had been placed in a limbo of sorts. He fell easily into the pattern of teaching and experimentation, and within five years of the Dark Lord's defeat, he was credited with the discovery and production of a potion that gave werewolves control of their mind during the full moon. He named it Wolfsbane for the primary ingredient contained within it that despite its fatal nature alone when offset by the other ingredients was able to greatly improve the quality of life for werewolves.

It was the tremendous accolade Severus received for this discovery that he believed led to the renewed correspondence with the last of his estranged family, his uncle. The letters were sparse at best, so suffice it to say that Severus was surprised to find that after two years of exchanging letters, his latest included an invitation to dine with the man. Severus had agreed albeit rather reluctantly. There was no love lost between the two men, but as he was his uncle and the only member of his mother's family that she had spoken of with any amount kindness, Severus decided he ought to give the man a chance.

It was a warm summer's night when Severus apparated to Prince Manor. He hadn't been there in a great many years, not since he was just a boy, but the place had lost none of its majesty. He wasn't certain what he expected when he knocked on the door, but it most certainly was not to be greeted by his uncle personally. He had assumed that, like Malfoy Manor, Prince Manor would contain an army of house elves.

His uncle was but a shadow of the man Severus remembered, and he seemed to be wasting away in front of him. "Come in," said the man, his voice was harsh.

"I thank you for the invitation," replied Severus, entering the home and surveying his surroundings.

"No need for any formalities here," snapped Prince. "We both know that this isn't a social call."

Severus raised an ebony brow. "Indeed," he replied silkily. "Though, if this is not a social call, I am at a loss for the purpose of the meeting. Not that I don't appreciate the correspondence. I believe my mother would be happy for the two of us to not harbor any ill will for one another, but you are right."

"Well said. Dinner should be ready soon. Why don't we sit for a while beforehand, and I can tell you why it is I have called you here."

Severus nodded once and followed the stiff man into an elaborate sitting room. The two sat down, but before his uncle could begin speaking about whatever it was that he wanted to discuss with Severus, they were interrupted by what sound like a small explosion of sorts, and then the popping in of a ragged looking house elf.

"Kokky is sorry for interrupting Master Prince," said the house elf, Kokky, her large eyes brimmed with tears. "But young master Kallias wouldn't listen when I told him he musn't be playing in the lab alone!" It was then that the door of the sitting room flew open and a young boy, who appeared to be around seven or eight years old ran in.

"I didn't _mean_ to explode your lab!" the boy, Kallias apparently, insisted tearfully.

Severus expected his uncle to reprimand the boy. By all of his recollections, the man had always been strict - ridiculously so. He remembered that quite well from his brief childhood visits to the manor. Instead, however, the man merely raised an eyebrow and gave the boy a pointed look.

"You never _mean_ to, Kallias, and that is exactly why I insist on you not going into the lab without supervision. Come here."

The young boy did, practically throwing himself into Prince's arms. Prince gave him a hug before clearing his throat.

"Now then, do I want to know how this explosion happened?"

The boy smiled sheepishly, a pink blush sweeping over his pale skin, and shook his head.

"Very well, off to bed with you, and I don't expect you to give Kokky anymore trouble. Understood?"

"Yes, Father, I understand!" the boy pressed a small kiss onto the man's wasted cheek before darting back out of the room, not even sparing Severus the slightest glance.

Severus was reeling over the boy calling his Uncle "father". If that were true, then he was the child's cousin! There was an extraordinarily uncanny resemblance between the two, so it wasn't so unbelievable, but there was something else, something oddly familiar about the boy that Severus just couldn't place.

"Kallias is what I've brought you here to discuss," began the man without further ado.

"Is that so?" queried Severus.

"I am ill, though I'm sure you have noticed that already. It's cancer, and as it is a primarily muggle disease, it has been difficult to treat with magic. I am undergoing muggle treatment, but there is known cure yet, and the treatment is merely a means of prolonging the inevitable."

Severus nodded and the man continued. "I brought you here to ask a favor of you. I have never been very kind to you, I'm sure you know that as well as I. I was blinded by my prejudices for far too long, but facing ones mortality has the unfortunate side effect of causing a man to rethink their previous beliefs. As you've just discovered, I have a son, Kallias. I haven't told him that I am ill, but he is a smart boy so I'm sure he knows something is amiss."

"What sort of favor?" asked Severus slowly.

"If I should die, whenever that may be, you will be Kallias's last remaining relative. I was hoping you would agree to take him in, if ever the need arises."

Severus was at a loss for words. "I cannot raise a child," he said at last. "I know nothing about them! What of his mother?"

An odd look flitted across his uncle's face. "Dead," he replied. "She was killed during the war. And you know plenty about them. You've spent the better part of a decade teaching them."

"Has he no other family?" Severus asking, ignoring his uncle's last words.

"No," replied the man. "_You_ are the last of his family." There was that odd look again, a look that Severus recognized for what it was. His uncle was keeping something from him. "If it's money you're worried about, then that has all been taken care of. He is the heir of the Most Noble House of Prince and as such he will inherit everything I own upon my death. He's a trust fund set aside with which to pay for his magical schooling - to whatever institute he decides to attend, although he is rather partial to Hogwarts. He's read through _Hogwarts, a History_ once already."

"It's not money," Severus said quickly. "I'll think on it," added Severus after several moments of silence.

His uncle nodded. "That is all that I can ask. Shall we adjourn to the dinning room now? I'm sure that dinner is ready by now."

"Yes, thank you," said Severus, stiffly.

A week passed by with no further contact between the two men before Severus finally penned a letter stating that he would take on guardianship, though he hoped it would never come to that.


	4. Chapter 3

Sorry that this has taken me so long! I have written and rewritten this numerous times, and I remain unsatisfied still. However, I hope you enjoy it!!

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2.  
_

Chapter Three   
In which peace is shattered in a not-so-unexpected manner and a boy grows up.

Weeks, months, and then years passed by with nary another word about Severus assuming guardianship of his younger cousin. Severus thought about the boy often, especially as time drew near for to him to begin his magic schooling. He continued to exchange letters with his uncle, and even, when prompted, exchanged a letter or two with the boy himself. Dumbledore had also become keenly interested in the existence of the Prince heir. More so when the boy chose not to attend Hogwarts. This surprised Severus as well as his uncle was correct in saying that Kallias seemed more than minimally interested in the school if his vociferousness in regards to the throughout the few letters he and Severus exchanged was any indication.

However, soon there was no time for such thoughts, by either Severus or Dumbledore. After what Severus would begin to call an extreme lack of forethought, Dumbledore brought the Sorcerer's Stone to Hogwarts for safekeeping. It was not as safe as he would have liked, but luckily Dumbledore was able to destroy it before the Dark Lord had obtained it. Of course, Dumbledore did not believe Professor Quirrell was working with him so sure was he that the Dark Lord was defeated. As much as Severus wished to believe that, he could not. His Dark Mark twinged painfully whenever he was near the bumbling professor. Something that, if Dumbledore were to be believed, should _not_ have been possible.

The next year was worse than the previous - if that could be believed. More so, in fact, as the legendary Chamber of Secrets was opened, and a series of children were petrified, culminating in the death of the youngest Weasley child - a girl by the name of Ginerva - and the return of the Dark Lord.

That was when Severus discovered that a youthful Dark Lord untainted by madness was just as terrifying as the previous incarnation of the man. More so, in fact, because there was a method to his madness now. Instead of reveling in his newfound return to power, the Dark Lord was quiet. Very quiet. _Too_ quiet, in fact, spending all of his time in search of something. What he searched for, Severus knew not, because this newer, younger Dark Lord trusted no one. Not even Lucius retained his position of power in the light of the Dark Lord's return.

Dumbledore had lived in denial for as long as he could, until Severus had been summoned, after which he could no longer deny it was true. The wizarding world, however, could not be swayed. There was no evidence that the Dark Lord had returned, and they preferred ignorance to truth - at least when that truth brought an end to the peace that had been enjoyed for the previous decade.

There was one person, however, who seemed to believe whole heartedly in the return of the Dark Lord. Severus' uncle had seemed quite unhinged about the entire situation. He'd written Severus asking him to visit. Severus would have made his excuses to delay the visit if he could have, but there was an urgency in the letter that prompted Severus to hold his tongue and visit despite his wishes. He had been sure that his uncle's passing was now upon them.

However, while his uncle certainly looked worse for the wear - it was obvious he was rather ill - he was in no danger of passing before his very eyes, but needless to say the reception this time was decidedly more unfriendly. Severus Prince had barely shown him inside when he found himself once more estranged from the last of his family. His uncle wanted nothing to do with the Dark Lord or, indeed, anything to do with anyone who was connected to the Dark Lord nor did he want his son exposed to the dark wizard. Severus didn't blame him, but he was surprised to discover the loneliness he felt after leaving the manor. No more letters were exchanged between the two men.

Meanwhile, Kallias Prince was able to grow up without the shadow of war on him. His father was careful to ensure that he had a very normal, very happy, childhood. He, in turn, was a curious, inquisitive, bright child who wanted for nothing. He had the best tutors, the best of everything, really. The only fault he could find with his life was that his father had a tendency to be overprotective and more than a bit overbearing. That was until Kallias went abroad for school.

With Kallias safely away from Britain and the brewing war, it was very easy for him to forget it was even happening. He had only been an infant during the first war, after all, and people on the continent cared nothing for the affairs of the British. In fact, it was only too easy for Kallias to adopt the same attitude as his fellows. Especially as he opted, after his first year, to not return to Britain during the summers. His father bought a villa near his school, Il Conservatorio di Magia, in Rome, and they would spend their summers there. Except for the last two summers Kallias had had to stay at the school because his father had been too ill to travel. In retrospect, perhaps he should have realized the significance of this and spent more than only the minimum time required - there was a period of two weeks in which the school had to be empty so the staff could do any needed repairs - at home with his father, but Kallias was a teenager, and they were known for being selfish creatures. Kallias was no exception to this. That is not to say he did not love his father, as he _did_, but the mortality of fathers are often forgotten. He just always assumed there would be more time later. This turned out to be a gross untruth.

It was a Saturday morning in December when Kallias received word that his father had finally passed on. The owl had bypassed the more widely known and accepted method of delivering post during the morning meal and come directly to Kallias' window. That was just as well as Kallias was not in the habit of attending breakfast on Saturday mornings. In fact, Kallias was not in the habit of attending lunch on Saturdays, either. No, more often than not, the only thing Kallias was in the habit of consuming prior to nightfall on the weekends was copious amounts of muggle coffee and half a pack or so of muggle fags at the little cafe near his school. That was when he could be roused from whatever - or rather _whoever's _- bed he happened to be frequenting, of course. And never, _ever_, no matter what circumstances might befall him, could be dragged from his bed at such an obscene hour as seven in the morning. It was unimaginable, unthinkable, yet...

It was exactly what happened on _that_ Saturday.

Kallias wasn't certain if it was the incessant _tap-tap-taping_ of the owl at his window that woke him up, the stream of Italian cursing, or the object hitting him firmly in his arse. A combination of the three was the most likely scenario, he thought. But he was certain what got him _out_ of the bed and opening the window to allow the bird entry - a well placed stinging hex from his room-mate.

Stretching and yawning rather loudly, he took the letter off of the proffered leg. He was about to crawl right back into his bed, letter unread, when the owl nipped him hard enough to draw blood causing him to let out his own stream of Italian cursing.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, grabbing the letter off of his nightstand where he had dropped it. He turned it over to open it, noticing for the first time the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry seal on it. There was only _one_ reason that someone from Hogwarts would contact him. He hadn't heard from his cousin in years, after all.

"Well, _fuck_," he breathed as he sank back down onto his bed.

He spent the rest of the day in a haze. The letter had been terse, but he expected nothing more from Severus Snape. His father had died, and Kallias was to return to Britain for the duration - however long that was. There was also a letter for his Headmaster if he required any special accommodations for any school work he may miss. He didn't as they were about to begin their winter holidays. Hogwarts still had another two weeks before their holidays begun so that is why Kallias was being forced to travel by port-key to Britain and then by train to Scotland. It wasn't as if this was a big shock for Kallias. Despite the fact that he thought his father had more time, he had been ill for a rather long time, and if truth were told, he would not have lasted half as long had he been a muggle. There weren't magical methods of curing cancer _yet_, but the potions available were infinitely better than any muggle medicine.

Sunday morning found Kallias sitting on the muggle side of Kings Cross Station, his newly purchased cashmere scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, his finely tailored coat carelessly unbuttoned, relishing what would probably be the last fag he had for the foreseeable future. He shivered nearly violently despite the warming charm he'd cast before he'd been port-keyed away. He had forgotten the frigid weather of the British Isles. At five till eleven, Kallias crossed through the barrier and onto Platform 9 3/4's to board the train. He readied himself for a boring trip, and found that he was not disappointed. The hours spent on the train - a red, gaudy train so cleverly called The Hogwarts Express - were spent staring out the windows and replaying the last conversation he would ever have with his father.

It was the previous summer, the summer before his seventh year. He was required to return home for the required two weeks the school would be inhabitable. _However_, he had not returned to Britain to hear his father berate his... _choices_. Far from it, in fact. Had he wanted a lecture on the... obligations of being the heir to one of the last Noble and Ancient Houses left in Britain, he would have remained in Rome and read his father's letters, of which there were _many_. He especially did not come to hear his father tell him that he was to marry a pureblooded witch and bloody well lay back and think of England if thats what it took to do his duty and produce the required heir.

He didn't think he'd ever seen his father so upset before. He'd scarcely walked through the door to his father's office before a newspaper had been thrust onto the desk. He could see himself on the front cover, and he was not alone. Indeed, he was being pressed against the wall and throughly ravished by a certain Lord Raphael de Benifici, a rather prominent political figure in the Roman wizarding world.

"What is the meaning of this, Kallias?" he had demanded, coldly.

"It is exactly what it looks like, Father." There was no sense in denials when it was plastered across the front page of every wizarding paper in Italy and throughout the continent probably. It was a well-known fact that the Prince heir was a playboy. His father didn't pay attention to the society pages during his summers in Italy, so he had remained ignorant to his son's antics. Kallias had never considered the possibility that the news would spread as far as Britain however.

"You are only seventeen years old, Kallias! Regardless of whether or not you choose to behave as such, the fact remains that _you_ are the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Prince."

Kallias sneered, and he thought, _he thought_, his father almost looked taken aback. "How could I ever forget, _Father_? You remind me of it at every turn."

"And yet you still choose to make a fool of me!" snarled the man. "Acting the whore for all the world to see!" He shook the paper viciously at Kallias.

He could continue with his... dalliances, if he _insisted_, but he must be discreet, certainly more discreet that than he had been.

On and on the lecture went, but Kallias had ignored him for the most part, leaving the manor house as soon as humanly possible in search of some nightlife.

Only to be poorly disappointed. There was very _little_ nightlife to be had in Britain, and what there was was very lacking. Rome... well, it need not be said that Romans enjoyed their hedonism, and as such were rather decadent and wanton in their pursuit of pleasure. Britain, on the other hand... well, he shouldn't have been surprised after his father's lecture, really, but still... he had not expected the attitudes he'd encountered. The entire population of the wizarding population here seemed to hold family in the utmost. The clubs, if they could be called that were most assuredly not the sort of places Kallias was accustomed to going to. Oh, Kallias didn't need the label that was so often required in the muggle clubs he frequented. No, Kallias was in it for the pleasure he received, and if that more often than not occurred with members of his own gender, he wasn't much bothered.

The rest of the visit had been appropriately tense, and upon returning to Rome, Kallias had ignored all correspondence with his father.

He had never regretted any of the many and varied wrong things he had done as much as he regretted that. A sigh escaped his lips, followed closely by another, as he watched the Scottish countryside pass by. Every moment spent aboard was another mile that now separated him from any semblance of a city. Hogwarts, he knew, was miles from any major muggle city. In fact, the closest he would get to civilization was a small wizarding village nearby. But he doubted, with all sincerity, it would be the sort of wizarding village he was used too.

All roads lead to Rome, after all, and it lived up to its reputation in every possible way. It was a mecca for wizards, witches, and muggles alike. A place where the lines separating the muggle world from the magical world was blurred at best and nonexistent at worst. Kallias thrived on the frenzy of the city and had immersed himself seamlessly within Roman society as surely as if he had been born and bred there. Still, he was often teased on his "stuffy British roots". It was no secret that the British were a laughing stock in the wizarding world largely due to their preoccupation with blood and the ranking therein. Blood mattered very little to Romans. Of course, as the majority of the prominent families within Roman society could trace their magical lineage back to the times of the Etruscans, it was a moot point on all accounts.

Kallias had only just dozed off when he felt the train come to a jarring stop. Well, he supposed it was time to face the music, as the saying goes, he thought as he exited the train, coming into contact with what very well could have been a mirror for all the similarities found there.

The ebony-haired, obsidian-eyed man could be no one but his cousin, Severus. They had met once, briefly, when Kallias was a child, but he remembered nothing about the man's appearance. Severus stared at him for a very long moment, an odd look flitting across his face, before letting out a strangled breath and uttering one nonsensical word that left Kallias throughly perplexed.

"_Lily_..."


	5. Chapter 4

Yawn. Well, I planned to write some Walking Shadow, but this is what came to me instead. Don't worry, if I ever decide to include any actual slash scenes, or sexually-inclined scenes of any sort, I will raise the rating.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2.  
_

Chapter Four  
In which a battle of wills occurs and Severus finds himself decidedly frustrated

The name meant nothing to Kallias, but it very obviously meant something to his cousin. Before Kallias could even respond, however, the man had donned a mask of indifference he knew all too well.

"Mr. Prince," said Severus, tersely. "I do apologize, for a moment you reminded me very much of someone I once knew."

Kallias, despite the circumstances, smirked and his obsidian eyes shined with mirth. "You need not address me so formally, cousin."

The mask was very firmly in place. "I am simply addressing you with the respect that you are due."

Kallias scowled. He decided not to even dignify that with a response. Calculating eyes swept over the village - and it was certainly _that_. A tiny, dirty little village. Pathetic. "_So_," he said slowly. "This is it, is it? The only wizarding community for miles?"

"Yes, now, if you would follow me to the carriages we can be on our way to Hogwarts. I trust your journey was satisfactory?" he asked in a lilting tone.

"_Merlin_," he breathed out, exasperatedly, falling gracefully into the carriage. "My _journey_ was just brilliant. Spending eight hours on a train is always an absolute _pleasure_. Why, again, was it necessary for me to join you at Hogwarts? I could have headed directly to the manor. I know there are things to be done, and I would like them to be done quickly so I can return home in time to salvage some part of this wretched holiday."

Now it was his cousin's turn to look perplexed. "Return home? Did you not read my letter?" he asked.

"Of course I did." Well, most of it. Part of it. A portion of it. Enough to know he was to come here, at any rate.

Severus sneered. "Obviously not," he snapped. "There is no returning to Rome. Unless you wish to forfeit your inheritance."

"_What_?"

Sirius Black was not having a good night. In fact, if pressed Sirius Black would be forced to say he had not had a good week, nor a good year. Or a decade for that matter, but especially night. He'd just come from a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, a rather _pointless_ meeting to be exact. The wizarding world had enjoyed over a decade of peace only for the most powerful dark Lord in a century to return to power. Only, the wizarding world had just acknowledged his return the previous year, some nearly four-odd years _after_ his return.

That night's Order meeting had ended abruptly when Sirius had stormed angrily out of Grimmauld Place after receiving a verbal lashing by his oldest remaining friend, Remus Lupin. Of course, _now_, as Sirius nursed a firewhiskey at The Hog's Head, he could see that perhaps Remus was correct in his proclamation that it was high-time Sirius Black grew up. However... Sirius was known to be rather hot-headed so that was why he was nursing a wounded ego and a busted lip along with the firewhiskey.

"Slummin' it tonight, are ya, pretty boy?" leered the bartender as a dark-haired young man sank gracefully onto a stool near Sirius.

The boy in question seemed to regard the man coolly for a moment which gave Sirius time to study him. He certainly didn't seem the type to frequent The Hog's Head. There was an air of aristocracy surrounding the young man, and he most certainly was _young_, no more than eighteen, and that was being rather generous. In fact, Sirius thought the barkeep was spot on in his assertions that the boy was _slummin' it_ as there was no doubt the boy was exceedingly attractive and also oddly familiar. He didn't answer the man, instead pulling a velvet bag full of galleons out and dropping it noisily onto the dirty bar counter.

"Firewhiskey," he told the man tersely. "And keep them coming."

The bartender hesitated slightly but one hungry look at the bag of galleons, and the man was setting a glass onto the counter and pouring firewhiskey into it.

Sirius was fascinated by the young man. He had an accent, only slight, but enough of one that he knew the man wasn't from Britain, and he was very obviously a wizard, yet he was wearing muggle clothing. A faded pair of blue jeans hung low on his hips in contrast to the well-tailored coat he wore and the cashmere scarf that was wrapped around his neck. The young man had not removed his coat, but Sirius could see the outline of the wand that lay beneath the sleeve of his right arm. He was in a wizarding bar, drinking wizarding alcohol, yet it was a pack of muggle fags that he pulled from his pocket. Muggle fags that he lit with his _wand_. The boy next to him was a mystery... one Sirius had every intention of unraveling.

The boy hadn't even finished his second drink when another figure entered the bar. A figure Sirius knew all too well.

_Snivellus_. Sirius opened his mouth to make the appropriately derisive comment both he and Snape expected him to make, but now looking at Snape and the young man beside him, he knew why he semed familiar, the resemblance was uncanny! Well, of course, save the the unseemly nose and the fact the boy was very _very_ attractive whereas Snape was sickening on all accounts, he maintained. However, Snape said not one word to Sirius, instead training his gaze on the boy.

"Mr. Prince," started Snape.

"You are wasting your breath, _Mr. Snape_," the boy said, mockingly, finishing his firewhiskey with one long drink. "I told you already to shove off. I'll be returning to London in the morning, and from there I will go to the manor and do what needs to be done before I return back to Rome."

"But the conditions of your inheritance-" Snape insisted, but Kallias cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hands.

"I've already given you my decision."

"Then you are a _fool_," snarled the Potions Master.

He turned to the man on his left. "Let's get an outside perspective, shall we, cousin?" asked Kallias. He did not miss the dark scowl that settled onto his cousin's face when he noticed exactly who it was that sat near him. It was quite obvious the two men knew each other.

Kallias had noticed the dark-haired man that had been watching the entire exchange the moment he entered the bar, of course. The man was older, perhaps in his mid to late thirties, but attractive nonetheless, in a less refined sort of way with his mussed black tresses and the flippancy he seemed to exude. He wasn't like the other men whose beds he frequented, but he supposed that perhaps he was _slummin'_ it as the barkeeper had so eloquently said. The man's blue-grey eyes shone with mirth whenever Kallias addressed his cousin.

"You see, it really is quite simply. In order to receive my inheritance, I must allow myself to become little more than a breeding stud for some pureblooded brood mare. Not only _that_, but I must remain in this ghastly country until I turn twenty-one. _I_ say the price is too high, and to sod the whole thing. _He_," Kallias motioned briefly over at Severus who was flushed red with rage, "refuses to accept my decision. He thinks I should do as told. Well, it's a pity, Severus, as that's never been my strong suit. I'm more of a do-as-I-please sort of fellow, and, you see, I most certainly have no intention of selling myself to the highest bidder, no matter what the press says of me."

"Your father - " interjected Snape.

"- was stuck in the 19th century! Just like this entire fucking country. Idiots, the lot of you," Kallias snapped. "So bloody blind. _Blood _doesn't matter. There's a whole world out there, beyond the Island of Death you call Britain - a world that cares very little for the blood that runs through your veins. Of course, I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand that, though I must admit I am surprised by the level of hypocrisy you allow yourself, considering that state of your blood," his gaze lingered on Severus' left arm. He may not think often - or at all, ever - of the war the Brits were conducting, but that didn't mean he was ignorant of it, or his cousin's part in said war. His father had kept him informed, of course.

Snape tensed. Kallias ignored him, turning once more to the man. "So, what say you? Shall I sell myself off like the good little pureblood I was raised to be, or should I become one of the disinherited and damned?"

"Well," drawled Sirius with a wicked grin on his face. "As one of the disinherited and damned myself, I say to hell with the lot of 'em."

"_Black," _Snape growled which only served to cause Sirius' grin to widen. The boy, Snape's cousin, whose name Sirius still did not know, smirked likewise.

"Ah_, _yes, I expect I have found a kindred spirit in you,_ Black_," said the boy, knowingly, leaning back to garner a better look at him. "Lord Black, then, I assume?" he asked.

Sirius shuddered. "_Merlin_, no. Lord Black was my father - may he rot in hell. It's Sirius - just Sirius," he said as held his hand towards the boy.

"Very well, just Sirius. How utterly remiss of me. I've completely forgotten my manners, and as my cousin seems to have none, I shall have to introduce myself. I'm Kallias Prince."

Black's eyes widened fractionally. "I see my reputation has proceeded me, then," said Kallias. "Well, Mr. Black, have I be labeled a harlot before I ever set foot on the shore? Not that I care much for what you Brits think of me. I think the entire country is completely repressed, and insane to boot. Of course, years of inbreeding will do that to a nation. Tell me, Severus, who my father has in mind for me? A second cousin, perhaps? I would say yourself, but as you are male, a half-blood, and decidedly unattractive on all accounts, you simply wouldn't do at all."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "_This_," he hissed darkly, "is not the appropriate venue for such a conversation! Now, if you would so kindly come with me..."

Kallias let out a long-suffering sigh. "My, my, does he ever bloody relax?" he asked, addressing Black.

"What? Ol' Snivelly here, relax? He doesn't know the meaning of the word!" Black crowed before letting out a barking laugh.

Severus whipped around and glared at Black. "I would watch myself, if I were you, _mutt_. Of course, I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand the need for seriousness, given you are here drowning yourself in firewhiskey instead of being at the school where you ought to be. Tell me, does Headmaster Dumbledore allow his Head of Gryffindor house to be inebriated so early in the evening when his charges remain unattended?"

Sirius scoffed. "I would ask the same of _you, _Snivellus, but I wouldn't expect you to understand. The Headmaster knows very well where I am - and where I have been, as well, so you needn't worry yourself further."

"So, are you a professor at the school as well?" asked Kallias.

"Yes," said Black. "Sirius Black, Professor of Transfiguration and Head of the House of Gryffindor, at your service."

"Well, _well_," purred Kallias, a lascivious grin spreading across his face. "Perhaps I can stay at Hogwarts - for the night, at any rate," he allowed. He stood, motioning to Sirius as he did so.

Sirius grinned as he noticed the dark look on Severus's face. No doubt he would pay for this later, but for now... well, he might as well enjoy the ride.

"_Black_," he snarled, "stay where you are. This does not concern you."

"If by _this _you mean _me_, then I most respectfully have to disagree with you, _cousin_," said Kallias. "Now, _Professor Black,_ ignore my cousin, if you please. He really is quite rude, isn't he? Of course, being terminally sexually repressed will do that to a fellow. It's no wonder you British are killing one another left and right."

Sirius let out another barking laugh. "Not me! I'm as far from sexually repressed as you can get, Snivelly over here, though, now, _he_ is most assuredly - and thankfully - repressed!"

Kallias quirked his head to the side, giving Sirius a significant look before heading for the exit of the bar. He stopped at the door and turned back to the two men who were now having a heated exchange. "Well, _Professor_, are you going to show me to the castle, or am I to spend the night alone?"

Sirius didn't even spare a parting glance to Snape.


	6. Chapter 5

Finally finished with my papers! YAY! I wrote this during a class, so I hope you enjoy it. I think I'm going to start the next HP & TWS chapter now!

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2.  
_

Chapter Five   
In which Kallias finds himself in a very unwanted position

"Are you certain, Severus?" queried Dumbledore, blue eyes staring fixedly at the Potions Master.

"Yes...no..._I don't know._ The boy could be nothing other than a Prince so uncanny is the resemblance there, but..." The words died on his tongue. It was late and fatigue weighed heavy on Severus.

"Yes?" Dumbledore urged him on quietly.

"But in the relatively brief time we spent together, I noticed that the resemblance was remarkably similar to Lily's as well," Severus sighed and lowered his face into his hands.

"Well," said Dumbledore, rather agreeably, almost _too_ agreeably Severus thought. "There's no reason both statements can't be true, is there?"

Widened eyes fixated on Dumbledore. "Surely - _surely _- you are not insinuating that _Lily Potter_ and my _uncle _had some... illicit affair, are you? Even _you_ could not stoop so low as to think-"

But Dumbledore cut Severus off firmly with a raised eyebrow and a disapproving look on his face. "No, I insinuate nothing of the kind. _However_, Severus Prince is not the only one with the... genetic material that would produce such a result. Indeed, no. _You_, my dear boy, are a Prince as well, and you greatly resemble your uncle. I knew him when he was a boy, of course, but I have not seen him in many _many_ years."

The look on Severus' face was almost comical when realization began to sweep over the man. "But...but..but..." he sputtered nearly incoherently. "There were no survivors, you said so yourself. The Dark Lord killed all three of them that night."

Dumbledore's expression turned serious. "I believed so," he said, simply. "Or, rather, I assumed he was dead because what chance did an infant stand against Voldemort? There was no body, but it was inconceivable to me that he would survive. The house was destroyed beyond recognition. Only their bodies were spared, and _you_ know the reason for that. The only way for him to have survived..."

"Is if he was never there in the first place!" finished Severus. He turned an accusatory gaze onto Dumbledore. "You _lied_ to me," he snarled.

"I did not lie, Severus, you merely -"

"A lie of omission is still a _lie_," spat Severus.

Dumbledore looked appropriately subdued. "Indeed it is. But tell me Severus... is there a chance that the boy could be yours? Were you and Lily... involved in a relationship?"

Numbly, Severus nodded. "Yes," he breathed. "Only for a brief period, but yes - we were. When the meetings began to escalate, along with my involvement, she ended things. She was married to James within a month, and within the year, had given birth."

"And she never spoke a word to you? Never gave you any indication that the child she carried, that she gave birth to, was yours?" inquired Dumbledore.

"I never spoke to her again, as well you know. She died, taking her secrets with her."

There was a twinkle once more in Dumbledore's eyes. "Not all of them."

"You still have not answered the key question, _Headmaster_. If this boy, Kallias Prince, is my son, _Lily's _son, how did he ever come to be with my uncle?" Severus demanded.

"A parent - particularly a mother - would do everything in their power to protect their child, to preserve their safety. Lily Evans always was a remarkably bright and cunning girl, was she not, Severus?"

And Severus Snape, for once, was speechless.

The first thing that Kallias was aware of upon waking was that he was alone. In a stranger's bed. Not that Kallias was unaccustomed to waking up in beds other than his own, but he wasn't particularly accustomed to doing so in the bed of a man he barely knew, no matter what the gossip magazines published about him, and he most assuredly was not accustomed to waking up alone.

The second thing that Kallias was aware of were the raised voices coming from outside the bedroom - _if the room could be called that_. The voices were muffled at best, but at least one of them belonged to his cousin, the other to a Mr. Sirius Black. The identity of the third was yet to be revealed.

"- only a boy," said the third, _calm_, voice.

"He's of age," Sirius cried, indignantly.

"So I am," said Kallias, drly, as he entered the room, eyeing the those gathered in said room. His cousin was standing stiffly, his obsidian eyes glaring daggers into Sirius who was still half-dressed. Kallias' eyes lingered on the lean muscles of the man's chest for a bit longer than necessary before sweeping his gaze to the third unknown party. Tattered robes, mousy brown hair, amber-hued eyes. _Wolf. _Werewolf. "My, my, what interesting company you do keep, cousin. Care to introduce us? It seems only fitting that I know your name since you seem so exceedingly interested in my private, _personal_, affairs, wouldn't you agree?"

The man flushed. "I didn't... that is to say... of course, my apologies, Mr. Prince. I am Remus Lupin, Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

A quirk of his lips, a raise of his brow. "Is that so?" The tone was mocking, very much so. "Lupin... what a fortunate name you possess, or rather unfortunate, I should say. Well, fate always _did_ have a sense of humor and irony, so it would seem. A teacher, are you? And do you teach your students how to defend against creatures such as yourself?"

But Lupin didn't seem very amused. He paled, dramatically. "You _know_?"

A scoff, an incredulous look. "Of _course_, I know. How could I not? Your eyes give you away. Do try not to look quite so put out, _Mr. Lupin, _I care very little what sort of blood, human or none, runs through your veins."

At this, Sirius paled considerably as well. "He keeps a glamour on them," he said in a near whisper.

"Of course he does," said Kallias, soothingly, as if speaking to a child. "But it is not so difficult to see through them, however, if you've the proper training, which I so happen to have. Although, I suppose, if you were schooled at Hogwarts, perhaps you have not been educated in the methodology of the deceptionary magics and the identification of said magics. Pity, that. It's quite a useful skill to have. Now, where was I?" He paused. "Oh, yes, I do thank you, Mr. Lupin, for your unneeded and, in fact, very much _unwanted_, concern over this, or any other, sexual encounter I may choose to have. I am of age, and you'll find, very much able to make decisions on my own."

"Mr. Prince," started Severus. "If you would come with me, I'm afraid we really must speak."

Kallias scowled. "I've told you to call me Kallias."

"Very well," sighed the Potions Master. "If you would come with me, _Kallias_."

"And with such a tempting offer as _that_, how could I ever disagree? Not easily, of course, yet I find myself doing so. I'm afraid, cousin, that any discussion - needed, wanted, or otherwise - will really have to wait until I am showered, appropriately attired, and have had no less than two cups of coffee," Here he cast a sly grin at Severus. "I really am useless before then. So, perhaps you would like to show me where I to stay? I assume my belongings have already been taken there."

Severus' look was one of resignation. "Of course. Black, Lupin," he said to each man.

Kallias trailed a hand over Sirius' arm, enjoying the sight of the muscle found there trembling beneath his fingertips. "Shall I see you again? At breakfast?"

Dazed, Sirius nodded. "Great!" said Kallias, a small smile playing on his lips. "Then I can look forward to at least one person who is sexually satisfied there." He gave Sirius one last lascivious grin and a wink before he followed Severus out the door.

--

When Kallias meet Cousin Sev - though he had been forbidden upon pain of death to ever utter that phrase - at the door of the small but otherwise acceptable room he had been given, there was no trace of the muggle clothing he had donned before. Kallias may be more comfortable in muggle clothing, but he was used to keeping up appearance, and it was required - even in a school as lax as the Conservatorio - to wear robes. His robes were quite a bit more stylish than those he would find here, he knew, as Italians were legendary for their skills with fashion, muggle and wizard alike. He wore a floor length black robe, however, it was a bit different than the very unflattering black robes his cousin wore. It was more of a coat than a robe, opening at the front to reveal a pair of snug black trousers, and dark blue button down shirt. His ebony locks, save the few errant strands that fell around his face, were gathered at the nape of his neck with a silver adornment that perfectly matched the buttons on his robe.

"What?" he asked at the Severus' raised brow.

"Your attire is shockingly appropriate. I was uncertain if you even _owned_ a robe, given your propensity for muggle clothing," replied the man lightly.

Kallias scowled furiously. "Whatever you think you know about me, I can assure you, is _wrong_. You would do well to remember that. I may feel more comfortable in clothing such as what I wore yesterday, but I know, very well, in fact, the appropriate attire to wear to most any occasion. I have been schooled quite proficiently in wizarding etiquette and culture as was expected of the Heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Prince."

"And yet," Severus said with a sly look at Kallias, "you seem most eager to disassociate yourself with your heritage."

"_I will not live a lie_," hissed the enraged boy. "If being associated with my "heritage" means that I must pretend to be someone I am not, marry someone I do not love, and sire children I do not want, then _yes_, I bloody well will disassociate myself with anything to do with my heritage."

"Calm yourself, Mr. Prince. I mean no offense. I was simply making an observation," said the Potions Master.

Kallias took a deep breath. "Besides, it may not even come down to that. I don't believe my father would make that sort of stipulation in his will. He may not have agreed with my choices, but he did love me. That much I know. I'm sure my solicitor will find a way out of the marriage clause."

"Solicitor?" asked Severus.

"Well, _yes_," Kallias said, sarcastically. "You didn't think I'd just take _your_ word for it, did you? I contacted him last night. Mr. Black was kind enough to allow me to utilize his fireplace to make a floo-call. Don't worry, cousin. I was going to inform you of the meeting this morning. You are required to attend as well as my father did seem to make you officiator of his will."

Severus did not look comforted by that information at all.

--

Kallias was not a morning person, he also had a deep-seated hatred for inane chatter. So, suffice it to say, he was currently in his own personal circle of hell because he was seated in between Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin, both of which were incredibly enthusiastic for such an early hour. Plus, he did not like the looks he'd caught Dumbledore leveling on him on more than one occasion throughout breakfast. Nor did he appreciate the topics of conversation.

"Hogwarts has an excellent library, Mr. Prince, I'm sure your cousin would be willing to escort you there, or perhaps I could have a student do so. The Head Girl, Hermione Granger, is a very capable - and friendly - student," The Headmaster told him.

"I'm sure your library is... adequate, but I'm afraid I must decline your offer. I've a meeting with my solicitor immediately following breakfast," said Kallias.

"Perhaps later, then," conceded Dumbledore affably.

"Perhaps," Kallias echoed.

"So, Rome, that must be an interesting place to study in," commented Lupin.

"Quite," he replied as he poured his third cup of coffee.

"What is the curriculum like at your school, Il Conservatorio, is it? You mentioned deceptionary magics, are they taught there?" he asked. The table grew quiet, then, all eyes turning to land on Kallias.

"Varied and excellent, of course," he stated, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice. "It _has _been in the business of educating witches and wizards since the 10th century BC."

On and on the questioning went. Had he studied the dark arts? The Unforgivables? Necromancy? Blood magic? Until at last, Kallias had had enough. "Shall I submit my wand to you for verification, Headmaster? I assure you you'll find nothing untoward on there," he snapped.

Abashed, Dumbledore had murmured his apologies.

--

His solicitor, the very same man with which he had graced the covers of news papers with, greeted him with a smile and a lingering kiss.

"Absolutely delectable, as always, my sweet," said the Roman wizard fondly before catching sight of Severus. "Ah, you must be Mr. Snape. Well, do make yourselves at home. The fine owner of this establishment assured me complete privacy, but of course, I added on my own security measures. Now... about this will, I'm afraid, Kallias, that Mr. Snape is quite right in his interpretation of it. In order to obtain the title Lord Prince and the various properties and monies associated with that title, you must marry. However, there is no time period placed on this marriage. Just that you must agree to do so, at some point in the future. Unfortunately, if you decide to postpone your marriage, you are required to remain here prior to your twenty-first birthday."

"That really, truly, will not be necessary Raphi, as I will not be staying for any amount of time. I would like to formally reject my inheritance and return to Rome forthwith," said Kallias, smoothly.

"That simply is not possible, Kallias," Raphael said, regretfully. "When you assumed control of the vaults on your seventeenth birthday, you accepted your inheritance - and all that it entails."

"I most assuredly did _not_ accept this!"

"No, it would seem you did not," agreed Raphael. "Your father changed his will some time after your assumption. Not commonplace in Roman society at all, as it is quite an underhanded thing to do, but it is an accepted practice here in Britain. The Head of the family's word is law, and because your father made these changes, I'm afraid you've no choice but to acquiesce to his desires. The contract you signed acts as an Unbreakable Vow. If you choose not to follow his wishes, then... your life is forfeit."

"And my education?" said Kallias, hollowly.

"Can be finished at Hogwarts," Severus said, in a quiet tone.

Kallias let out an empty laugh. "Many of my subjects are not offered here. What of those? And my Apprenticeship? I am very near Mastery, surely I cannot be expected to simply give those up!"

"Of course not," said Raphael, aghast. "Tutors _will_ be provided for subjects not taught at Hogwarts." This was aimed at Severus, but it was not a question. Severus gave a slight nod. "As for your mastery, well, perhaps, your cousin could be persuaded to allow you to finish under him. He is a fairly well known Potions Master even though his talent lies in a different area than yours."

"I don't think so," sneered Kallias. "You will make it so that I can complete my apprenticeship with Master de Medini, through correspondence, if necessary."

Raphael nodded. "Very well, I'm sure that he will be pleased to help in any way he can. He says often how promising a student you are."

Severus' eyes widened. Sade de Medini was a world renowned Potion Master whose specialty was in those potions used in Alchemy.

Raphael's expression turned serious then. "Now, there is one more matter I must speak with you about..."


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: I have no school for four months! TGIS (Thank God It's_ Summer_). Expect tons of updates in all fics :D

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Six  
In which Kallias keeps a secret

Snowflakes fluttered to the ground, adding another layer to the blanket of snow that was already there. There was only white as far as the eye could see. His own footprints, left in the snow hours before, had long since been covered up. Wrapped in several layers of clothing, not to mention a variety of warming charms, Kallias still managed to feel splendidly numb - without even the help of alcohol as he had been informed by Severus – in the sort of no-nonsense tone that he fervently abhorred and sought to disobey at every turn – that Hogwarts students weren't allowed alcohol. Furthermore, all of the drinking establishments in Hogsmeade had been told not to sell him any alcohol on pain of... well, Kallias wasn't quite sure what, but some sort of Dumbledore backed threat had been involved, that much he knew as he _had_ already been turned away despite the almost obscene amount of galleons he'd offered the barkeep.

Now, Kallias didn't normally condone drinking before nightfall. It wasn't as if he was _against_ it, really, but he did _attempt _to not appear a complete glutton. _However_, if ever there were a reason for drinking, this was most certainly it.

When Raphi had said he had further news for the two of them, Kallias couldn't rightly say what he thought said news could be. His father had already covered all of his bases, so to speak. Kallias was to stay in Britain where even if he was disinclined to marriage, his father must have believed some pureblooded chit would get her claws into him. The Prince line would live on, and all that rot.

Only... _only_. Well, he wasn't an actual Prince, now, was he? Not according to the letter his father had left for him, or the adoption papers signed by a Mrs. Lily Evans Potter. Only it wasn't so much an adoption as it was the giving up of parental rights. It wasn't so unexpected, he supposed, to discover that his mother wasn't exactly who he thought her to be. Although, he supposed he hadn't actually lied. He _had _told him that her name was Lily, well, he'd said Lillian, but that was close enough. On the whole his father had always been very tight-lipped about her. She was dead, and that was all he needed to know. _However_, Kallias had no idea that his father could be anyone other than Severus Prince. They were nearly identical. He definitely never would have suspected that his father was _Severus Snape_. The entire situation had him completely in a state of shock.

So much for the pureblood manifesto he'd been practically force fed since he was a boy - he was the bastard son of a half-blood and a muggleborn. Oh, he didn't care at all about his bloodlines. No, what he cared about was that his father - his true father, not Snape - had lied to him for as long as he could remember.

The letter had detailed a litany of reasons for this deception. It all came down to this: he was suspected to be one of the "prophecy" children, and because of this he had been hunted by Lord Voldemort. His mother had pleaded with Severus Prince to take her only son and protect him come what may - even from his Death Eater father. So that is exactly what he'd done. She'd been killed the very same night.

"It's _ridiculous,_" he muttered, as he lit a fag, not even caring that that was just another of the things he wasn't to do now. "Completely and utterly ridiculous."

"Anything you care to share with me?" came a silky voice from behind him. It was _Severus _- his... well, Kallias wasn't certain what to call him. He wasn't really his cousin, so that was out, but on the other hand, he didn't really consider him his father either, and probably never would. Not that it was a pressing issue as he had yet to inform the man. He probably should, though, but his father had insisted it was to be done at his discretion as he wasn't certain he could be trusted.

"Not particularly," said Kallias.

Obsidian eyes studied him for a moment, taking in the details of his face. He sucked in a sharp breath. "You're needed in the Great Hall for your sorting," he said in a clipped tone.

"Am I?" Kallias asked. "Pity, that. I don't really care to be sorted."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Nevertheless, you _will _be."

Kallias rolled his eyes and sighed in a exaggerated manner. "If you insist..."

"I do."

Kallias rose off of the transfigured chair. He flicked his wand lazily and the chair was once more a pebble. "Lead the way, then, Sevie. Perhaps I'll be sorted into Gryffindor. I'm certain I will benefit greatly under Professor Black."

Already pale skin blanched.

"Well," said Kallias, cheekily, "his tutelage, that is."

Severus did not look comforted at all by the correction.

Unfortunately, it was a moot point because no sooner had the hat touched his head, it declared him a Slytherin.

Dumbledore's face was jovial as ever. "You may go on over to the Slytherin table. Your year mates will escort you to the dormitories after dinner, I'm sure. Your belongings will be there when you arrive. Severus will have your timetable ready for you in the morning."

Kallias raised an ebony brow. "With my special accommodations in place, I assume?"

Those blue eyes dimmed ever so slightly. "If you wish," he allowed.

Kallias nodded, firmly. "I do."

"Very well," conceded the Headmaster before waving Kallias dismissively towards the Slytherin table.

All eyes were on him as he sank down onto the very end of the bench. He noticed one girl, she was, he supposed, adequately attractive with dark hair and blue eyes, staring hungrily at him. Their eyes met for a moment before Kallias lowered his gaze to his plate, and waited for it.

One... two... _three_. Sure enough, now the empty seats around him weren't quite so empty anymore. He allowed them to introduce themselves without reciprocating in kind. It wasn't necessary, they knew very well who he was, just as he knew who they were. They were the so-called crème de la crème of the British wizarding youth. Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. The only one he hadn't recognized was Pansy Parkinson, the dark haired girl who stared at him as if he were a delectable dessert. They were rich, influential, impeccably attired, and most importantly - to them, at any rate - pureblooded.

Now that the expected niceties were finished, Kallias wondered how long it would take for one of them to break form and ask what he was sure they all were dying to know. His father may not have read the society pages, but the same couldn't be said for his new classmates.

He didn't wait long.

"Well, well, the Prince heir comes to Hogwarts," drawled Malfoy, nastily. "I never thought I'd see the day that you would lower yourself to socialize with us mere mortals."

Kallias smirked, tucking a piece of errant hair behind his ear. "Come now, Malfoy," he said, lazily. "Jealousy is so unbecoming of a Malfoy. I'm not here to usurp your... _position_ - or anything else for that matter." His eyes flitted over to the Parkinson chit who was giving him a sultry smile, or what she thought constituted a sultry smile.

"Why _are _you here, then?" asked Zabini curiously.

Kallias heaved a sighed. "I have been exiled here on pain of death."

"Really?" breathed Greengrass, her brown eyes widening.

"Well," he amended, shrugging. "Death or marriage - whichever comes first. I suspect death though as I've really no use for a wife."

Malfoy broke out into a wicked grin. "So, it's true, then... all of those stories they print. You really are _queer_," he crowed.

Obsidian eyes narrowed dangerously. "If by queer you mean that I have a very healthy and voracious sexual appetite that does not discriminate in gender, then, _yes_," his voice was soft and sounded remarkably like Snape's, they thought. His anger seemed to melt away, however, as a gleam appeared in his obsidian eyes and a smirk on his face. "Not that I would expect you to understand, of course…I doubt you've been with _anyone_ – male or female. Why I bet you're as pure as the driven snow!" Kallias trilled.

A pink blush spread across his porcelain skin."You better watch your mouth, Prince!" snarled Malfoy.

Kallias tutted, a bemused smirk on his face. "Lord Prince, didn't you know? I do believe that makes me your better, does it not?"

When the pink blush began to turn a delightful shade of purple, Kallias considered his work done. He eyed the other Slytherins speculatively.

"I don't suppose any of _you_ would have access to alcohol, now, would you?" he drawled, pushing his plate away from him.

"I do," said a hesitant Zabini a moment later.

"Brilliant. Lead the way, then, yeah?"

Zabini nodded slowly. He looked more than a little confused. "You want to drink with me?" he asked, just for clarification.

Kallias quirked an ebony brow and pursed his lips. "I do believe I said so, but if you would rather _not_, then I'm certain I can find _someone _who would…"

"No!" Zabini said quickly. "I will."

"And don't worry… I wouldn't dream of attempting anything untoward with you. I prefer my men to be actual men rather than boys. Your virtue is safe with me."

Their laughter could be heard echoing off the hallway as they made their way to the dungeons.

--

Kallias woke up to someone shaking him and whispering urgently.

"Prince, get _up!_ Professor Snape is on his way here right now!"

"Correction, Mr. Zabini, Professor Snape _is_ here."

It was then that Kallias opened his eyes. Severus was standing at the doorway to the seventh year boy's dormitory, a furious expression on his face. Kallias groaned, his head was killing him. Exactly _how_ much had he drank last night? There was an answering groan next to him. Surprised, Kallias turned to see Theodore Nott next to him - in a similar state of undress.

"Fuck," muttered Kallias.

"Indeed," Severus replied. "Ten points from Slytherin _a piece. _And I suggest the two of you make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast - immediately. I shall be awaiting your arrival."

And with that, he stalked out of the room. Kallias fell back against the pillow.

"What a way to start the day," he sighed.

Beside him, Nott looked a little green. "My father is going to _kill_ me," he breathed in a horrified tone.

"Do try not to be so melodramatic, Nott," drawled Kallias lazily as he forced himself out of bed. "You certainly enjoyed yourself well enough last night. There's no need for your father to find out. I certainly won't be telling him, though I wouldn't be sure about Malfoy..."

Kallias had never seen anyone dress faster. Nott was dressed and out of the door before Kallias had even made it to the bathroom. When Kallias emerged from the bathroom showered and fully dressed, Severus was waiting for him.

"Must we have this conversation, Mr. Prince?"

Kallias smiled cheekily. "I don't know, Sevie, _must we_?"

"You must follow the rules, Kallias. The headmaster has made a great deal of exceptions for you. Allowing you to continue your Mastery, allowing you to study independently subjects that he most certainly finds inappropriate for students-"

Kallias cut him off, anger seeping into his voice. "Professor Dumbledore allows me _nothing_," said Kallias. He took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing in a detached voice. "If I had a choice, I most certainly would not chose to remain here -"

"But you do _not_ have a choice! You are to attend Hogwarts for your last term, and you must follow the rules - just like every other student! That includes rules of propriety."

Kallias scowled. "Fine, if that is all -"

Severus cut him off. "No, that is not all. After breakfast I am to accompany you to Diagon Alley so that you may obtain a Hogwarts uniform as well as a set of books. Then, we must head to Prince Manor and take care of a few things."

A dark look flitted across Kallias face. "Fine," he said tersely. "As long as we are back before dinner. My solicitor will be returning with my belongings from the Consevatorio as well as correspondence from my Master and my other professors. I'm to meet him in Hogsmeade again."

"Very well, then I shall accompany you."

"I've no need of a chaperone, I assure you. I am of age, and this does not concern you," replied Kallias.

Severus' lips were drawn in a tight line, but he said nothing.

"After breakfast, then," said Kallias before leaving the room.

--

Diagon Alley was just as Kallias remembered. He was fitted for robes at Madam Malkin's as was expected. The robes were not of his usual quality but he supposed they would do. The bookshop was the same. Nothing of interest was there. Apparently censorship was a condoned and accepted practice here in Britain - the land that time had apparently forgotten. Kallias sighed heavily.

"A problem, Mr. Prince?" queried Severus.

"Just contemplating why you Brits think censorship necessary. It's a pity, really, and you are more the fool for it. Are you even aware what is available - _possible_ - if you let loose of those scruples you hold so dear and near," Kallias replied, flipping through a substandard book of potions.

"I do apologize if having some morals offends your sensibilities," the Potion Master quipped with a snort.

"Morals, _cousin_...? Do continue. I am very much interested in hearing what your vision of morality is. I suspect our views are much, _much_, different." Obsidian eyes rested on the fabric that covered Severus' Dark Mark.

Severus tensed. "Perhaps we should head to Prince Manor now. We wouldn't want you to miss your... appointment, now, would we?" he sneered.

Kallias shrugged. "As you wish."

--

The halls of Prince Manor felt hollow to Kallias. Not that he'd spent any decent amount of time here since starting school, but his childhood here had been a happy one. Running through the manor, playing with the house elves, sneaking into his father's laboratory, burning _down_ his father's laboratory, scaring off tutor after tutor... Kallias definitely had been a handful.

He stood outside the door to his father's study. He was _never _to enter without his father's express permission. His hand rested on the door knob for several moments before finally entering.

The smell of his father's cigars and cologne hung heavy in the air. Kallias closed his eyes. The last time he had been in this room, his father had been furious with him, and not to mention, disappointed with him. Long slender fingers caressed the dark wooden surface of the desk. His father's account books lay where he left them. There was still a half-full glass of scotch next to his favorite quill. It was almost as if he'd just stepped away for a moment.

But he hadn't. He was gone, and all he'd left behind was a multitude of questions and a fortune that Kallias had no use for. And Kallias, who had made it his business to surround himself around people, was now alone, stuck in a place where he felt unwelcome, with a dark shadow hanging over head.

A prophecy... what utter rot! He was not destined to defeat the Dark Lord - or anyone for that matter. He had no part - wanted no part - in this war. He was only seventeen for Merlin's sake. The envelope in his pocket felt heavy. He was Harry Potter, claimed son of James and Lily Potter - thought to have died on October 31, 1981. He was one of two children divined to defeat the Darkest Wizard in a century.

He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and threw it into the fireplace. He set it alight with a flick of his wand.

Prophecy. _What utter rot. _


	8. Chapter 7

Italicized speak denotes where they are speaking in Italian.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Seven  
In which Kallias makes a grave error

It turned out that there was very little to actually take care of at Prince Manor. Severus Prince was not a man that enjoyed fanfare of any kind, so his funeral arrangements had been easily taken care of - mostly by the man himself before his death. He was to be buried at the Manor's burial ground at their earliest convenience. There was the matter of the management of the Prince accounts and estate, of course, but Kallias had already decided to see if Raphi would mind taking control of those. Raphi was an excellent business man. As a politician and a solicitor, however, he did precious little business nowadays, but Kallias knew he would - if only because he asked him to.

He told Severus to take what he wanted - if, indeed, he wanted any - of his father's personal effects. What remained he ordered a house elf to pack into a trunk for transport to Gringotts. Then, he ordered that that entire wing of the manor be closed until further notice.

By sundown, Kallias was walking - _alone_ - to Hogsmeade despite the fact that neither the Headmaster or Severus were pleased by the arrangement. The Three Broomsticks was nearly empty as it was wont to be during the week, and as Raphi had not arrived yet, so Kallias waited at the bar.

The patron - a pink-faced woman with piles of blonde curls named Madame Rosmerta - greeted him with a smile. "Hello again, Mr. Prince."

Kallias returned the smile and gave her a wink in exchange. "I've told you before - Kallias, if you please. It's a pleasure to see you again, Madame, as always."

Her already pink face flushed deeper. "What can I get for you tonight? Are you meeting that terribly handsome man here again?"

"Yes, he shall be joining me shortly, and we will be in need of a room."

The door opened and closed, but Kallias paid no attention. Raphi wouldn't be there for another half-an-hour.

"The same as before, then, dear?" she asked.

Kallias inclined his head. "Yes, whatever he required last night. Now, then, I don't suppose you could find it in your heart to spare a bit of Ogden's Finest for me?"

She raised a blonde eyebrow. "'Fraid not, dear. The Headmaster was quite plain in his instructions. How about a butter beer?"

Kallias pretended to pout. "_Fin_e_," _he sighed, gazing at her beneath his full eyelashes. "If you're sure, then I suppose it'll have to do."

Madame Rosmerta chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "I suppose I could - just this _once_, mind."

"Brilliant - I shan't tell a soul."

She brought him over a small glass full of the steaming whiskey before shooing him away from the bar. He left him a rather large tip on the bar before taking said drink and heading to a table. As he was walking to the table, he noticed a man with long white-blonde hair sitting at a table near the door. Madam Rosmerta was headed for the man as Kallias lowered himself into a chair. Kallias watched, bored, as the man ordered a drink and then as Madam Rosmerta brought said drink over to him. He knew exactly who the man was, of course -- Lucius Malfoy. There was no mistaking that haughty sneer. Draco was practically a carbon copy of the man, the poor thing. Not that Lucius wasn't an attractive man. He certainly was that. No, it was his personality that left _much_ to be desired. His exploits were infamous -- even in Rome where they tried, largely, to ignore British politics. The man had been personally responsible for the repelling of more than a dozen laws that would have ensured greater freedoms for those other than purebloods -- including werewolves and vampires to name a few.

Lucius seemed to notice Kallias as well. Kallias knew, without even glancing in the man's general direction, that he was studying him. In fact, if his look was any indication, he seemed to be contemplating approaching Kallias. Thankfully, Raphi came in before he could, and he was not alone. Indeed, Sade de Medini was with him. What a... pleasant turn of events.

"Master Medini," said Kallias with a nod of his head and a smirk on his face.

Sade de Medini was a very imposing man. He was tall with wavy brown hair that was gathered at the nap of his hair by a velvet ribbon and blue eyes that were as cold as ice. He was not a very muscular man, but he more for made up for it in magical prowess which he had in scads. He did not return Kallias's smile. He rarely did.

"Tell me, Kallias, what I said to you barely a week ago?" the man began speaking without preamble.

"I haven't the faintest," replied Kallias, widening his eyes innocently. "If I know you though -- and I like to think that I _do_ -- I'm sure it was something to the effect of... _Do as you're told, Kallias. _Or perhaps, _I want you to be completely dull forever_. I can never keep up with your rambling. Do feel free to repeat it."

Sade let out a long suffering sigh. "I detest Britain. You know this."

Kallias shrugged. "As do I. I haven't a choice in the matter. Unless you'd rather I die..."

Sade cut him off with a dangerous glare. "You do not wish me to answer that at the moment. Now, I assume that arrangements have been made for you to continue your education here?"

Kallias nodded once. "Yes."

"Very well. And has Dumbledore made arrangements for my quarters?"

Kallias blinked several times. "Your quarters?"

"You surely didn't think that I was going to allow you to continue on with your research unattended. Good Lord, Kallias, it is all I can do to keep you in line when I am with you all the time. To think of the damage you could wrought unattended..." He shuddered. "No, it simply will not do at all. I shall go and inform Dumbledore of this."

Kallias nodded. "Of course."

"And Kallias," said Sade as he headed out of the door. "Not another drink. You're days behind in your research, and if you are to make another attempt this moon cycle, you must begin in the morning. I can only hope that Hogwarts has a suitable lab, but we shall have to make do with what we have. I expect you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the muggles are fond of saying, in the morning."

Kallias forced back the scowl that was threatening to appear on his face and gave his Master a curt nod. Once Sade was gone, Kallias sighed and turned back to Raphi. "Shall we go upstairs, then?"

Raphi gave Kallias a wistful smile. "I'm afraid I have to go. Tonight is the night of the Rhyianon ball -- I am very sorry, Kallias. I had forgotten all about it. I was simply accompanying Sade. Now, your luggage is set to arrive by portkey at 7 a.m. tomorrow."

Now Kallias _did _scowl. Of course tonight was the night of the Rhyianon ball. Kallias loved attending balls, and he always made it a priority to do so. How could he have forgotten? "Have you a date, then?" asked Kallias lightly.

Raphi studied him for a moment. "No," he replied at last.

"Brilliant. Do you still have some of my clothing at the manor?"

"Yes, of course, but do you think it wise, Kallias? You've only just arrived-"

Kallias pressed a finger to his lips. "You let me worry about that. Unless, of course, you don't wish for me to accompany you?"

The eager look on his face and the spark in his eye betrayed Raphi. "You know I always enjoy your company..."

"So it's settled!" he exclaimed and finished his drink in one gulp. He gave Raphi a peck on the check. "I'll just send word to Severus. He'll be angry, but he is angry so often I won't even be able to tell the difference."

He left Raphi at the table and headed up to the bar.

"Mr. Prince," said Madam Rosmerta. "What can I do for you?"

"It seems we won't be needing a room after all, but have you a bit of parchment and a quill? I find myself in need of doing a bit of correspondence."

She arched a blonde eyebrow but did produce a piece of parchment and a quill.

Kallias scribbled a very brief letter to Severus -- with a side note to Master de Medini, who he was certain was settling in down in the dungeons with Severus.

"I don't suppose you have an owl I can use, do you?" Kallias asked.

Madam Rosmerta gave a little huff, but she smiled at him. "Yes."

"Brilliant!" He gave the parchment to Rosmerta and met Raphi at the table, never noticing the pair of gray eyes that followed his every move. "Come along, now, Raphi before Severus comes to collect me himself!" Kallias grinned as he pulled Raphi from The Three Broomsticks.

"On your head be this," murmured Raphi into Kallias' dark hair. He had pulled him into his arms once they were out of the pub in order to side-along apparate them to the place of his portkey to Rome.

Kallias was surrounded the moment he entered the ball with Raphi by his friends and by several members of the press. They all wanted to know how Kallias was dealing with his father's death, and his unfortunate inheritance. Was it true he was leaving Rome for Britain?

"_Those British -- simply barbaric, they are!" _insisted one press member. "_Changing the terms of inheritance after you've already accepted it." _

Kallias couldn't agree more.

The night progressed beautifully. He talked with his friends, danced with them, danced with Raphi, kissed Raphi. All in all, it was worth the trouble he was sure to get in when he returned to Hogwarts. It was near the end of the night when Kallias saw him or rather _felt _him.

To anyone else, it was simply a seemingly inconspicuous dark haired man that entered the room, but Kallias knew better. Oh, Kallias did not know who the man was, but he knew enough. He knew the man was powerful -- extremely so. His power drew Kallias to him. Kallias' eyes were fixed firmly on him from the moment he entered the room.

"If you would excuse me," he murmured to the gentleman he had been conversing with.

The man was sitting in the corner, shadow falling over his handsome face. He was tall with ebony hair and cold red eyes, of course their redness was covered with a glamour, but Kallias was able to see through it. Kallias couldn't place his age. His face seemed rather young, but his hair was sprinkled with specks of gray.

Kallias was surprised to discover his heart was beating rather frantically as he approached the man. His instincts seemed to be telling him that he was in danger, terrible danger, but how could he be? He was at a ball, for crying out loud.

It was only when he reached the man's table that he realized the man was not alone at all. Indeed, Lucius Malfoy was sitting with him, an indescribable look on his face.

"My, my, Lord Malfoy, if we continue to meet like this, tongues will begin to wag. They'll say you're stalking me..." purred Kallias, his eyes never leaving the dark haired man's eyes. Of course, Kallias hadn't actually spoken to Lucius before, but he _had_ noticed him at the pub, and he wasn't fool enough to think him being here was a coincidence. Lucius had never once before attended any of the other social functions in Rome though Kallias felt quite certain he had been invited to several prior to this one.

"Stalking you? You are quite sure of yourself, Lord Prince," drawled Lucius. "You would be wrong, however, I assure you. Though I must admit, I _am_ surprised to find you so very far from home. I am on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, I'm sure you are aware that you are breaking half a dozen school rules by being here."

"Feel free to expel me, then, if you wish," Kallias said with an elegant shrug. "I care not. I daresay you would be doing me a rather large favor. I've no desire to spend any amount of time there."

At this, the dark haired man spoke for the first time. "Surely you jest, young Prince. To study under the great Albus Dumbledore is a privilege, wouldn't you say, Lucius?" There was a mocking edge to the man's words.

"Indeed," intoned Lucius immediately.

"A privilege," remarked Kallias, "that I have neither asked for nor want. I'll be surprised if I remain at Hogwarts for the duration of the term. Dumbledore doesn't seem very fond of me."

"And you? Are you fond of the Headmaster?" asked the man, curiously.

"No," Kallias replied. "I can't say I am, but then again, I'm not very fond of rules or following them, and rules, I'm sure you know, are what Dumbledore seems to live for."

The dark haired man chuckled, and Lucius followed his example. It was then that a slightly inebriated Raphi approached him from behind, sneaking an arm around his waist.

"_Shall we retire for the evening, my beautiful one_?" murmured Raphi into his ear, his breath hot against his neck.

Kallias shivered lightly, nodding his head.

"_I'll meet you outside,_" he murmured to Raphi in response. To Lucius and his friend, he inclined his head. "Perhaps we shall meet again, Lord Malfoy, and perhaps _then_ you shall remember your manners and introduce your friend, but I'm afraid I simply must be off now."

There was an odd gleam in the man's red eyes.

"Don't worry, Lord Prince," the man said, softly, when Kallias was out of ear shot. "We shall meet again, far sooner than you would think." To Lucius, he said, "I want to know everything about the Prince heir – every single thing. Do not fail me in this."

"Of course…my Lord," replied Lucius, at last.


	9. Chapter 8

Sorry this took so long! Writer's Block is evil. This is what came out when I went to write last night. Hope you enjoy it! Next chapter will be a bit longer and you will finally learn about Kallias's magical ability, his apprenticeship, as well as see him interact with students other than Slytherins.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Eight  
In which the truth is learned

Severus was pacing angrily in front of the Slytherin boy's dormitory the next morning when Kallias came sauntering in. Well, as much as someone who is suffering from a particularly nasty hangover can. Sade's face had been the first thing he'd seen that morning after a night of fitful sleep. Apparently, Sade knew him better than Kallias had expected on because he didn't seem the least bit surprised that Kallias was with Raph. So, already, Kallias's day was off to a terrible start. He had sat through a round of lectures by Sade _instead_ another round with Raphi. Not to mention the fact that Raphi hadn't remembered one detail about the dark-haired man the night before. Suffice it to say, Kallias was in no mood to deal with Severus now. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have a choice.

"_Where were you_?" Severus snarled.

Kallias winced, a hand moving reflexively to rub his aching temple. "Not that it is any of your concern, but I had a prior engagement last night, but as you can see, here I am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Well, here I am, at any rate."

"Do you have any idea how worried about you I was when I heard you'd never returned from Hogsmeade?" continued Severus, his voice loosing none of its volume.

"Why, Severus, you _do_ care!" Kallias crowed, happily.

"You foolish boy! Do rules mean nothing to you?" asked Severus, his voice oddly calm and even, a few moments later in Severus' office.

"Not partiularly," Kallias said without a bit of remorse. "Waste of time, those."

"Have you forgotten we are in a war? A _war_! What of _that_? It is a dangerous time now, Kallias. If you care nothing for rules, what of your life? Do you care about that?" Severus demanded.

Kallias snorted. "Danger? I'm in no danger, and I care very little for the war -- _either side of it_," Kallias said when it looked as if Severus would protest. "So, you can tell your Masters that, if you please."

Severus looked a bit taken aback. "But -- you... you _must..." _

Obsidian eyes narrowed. "What must _I _do? What role does Kallias Prince have in this war?" His head was throbbing, and he was feeling oddly discomfitted.

But Severus was relentless in his pursuit. The letter he'd received that very morning was heavy in his pocket, and the repercussions of it heavy in his heart. He set his jaw and arched his eyebrow. "Kallias Prince? Perhaps none, but Harry Potter..."

All of the color drained out of Kallias's face. "Harry Potter does not_ exist_," he hissed.

Severus cocked his head to the side. "Oh? Does he not?"

"You know very well that he is dead -- he died many years ago! Why do you pretend otherwise?" Kallias said, his voice becoming a bit hysteric.

"This," said Severus, simply, pulling a letter from his robe. Kallias recognized the Prince Coat of Arms immediately. He froze. His father wouldn't -- would he? "Imagine my surprise when this arrives this morning. You see, my uncle wanted to be sure I knew the truth."

Apparently, he _would_.

Kallias shrugged, a sneer on his beautiful face. "And? What of it?"

"Did you know?" asked Severus.

"Does it matter?" Kallias countered. "It changes _nothing_."

"Oh, I disagree, I think it changes quite a bit," replied Severus, easily.

Kallias sighed and droped into one of the chairs facing Severus's desk. "What do _you_ think it changes?" Kallias asked. He was humoring Severus more than he actually cared, but that was neither here nor there.

"You're my son! That changes everything!" Severus insisted.

Again, Kallias shrugged. "For you, perhaps. For me? It changes nothing. My father is dead. I've no use for another." If Kallias's words shocked or hurt Severus, he didn't show it. Kallias continued. "And Harry Potter is _dead_. I am not he. I will never be he. I care nothing about the prophecy -- _yes, I know of it_ -- so that also has changed nothing."

Only, it seemed, for Severus it had. Severus' face crumpled slightly. "The prophecy... you know it? Then, you know your mother gave your life for it, you wretched boy, and yet you care not?"

"Did she? And who, dear _father_," there was a chilling, mocking edge to his voice now. It was odd to hear such emotion from the boy who took such care to seem as carefree as possible. But Kallias was not as one-sided as he would have people to believe. To be underestimated, Kallias knew, was a great thing. He took a deep breath and began again. "Who imparted the prophecy to his master? Who signed her death warrant himself? _You_? Whom she loved till the very end, according to my father? _You_? Whom she distrusted at the end! Even my father distrusted you, always. Do you know what it is he wrote to me? In that letter? _He is your true father, my son, but though his blood flows through your veins, this may not be enough to stay his hand. I tell you this against my better judgement, against your mother's last wishes. _So, do not throw my mother's death in my face!" hissed Kallias, his pale skin flushed in rage, strands of wavy ebony hair falling into his eyes.

A silence stretching several heartbeats fell between them. Severus look undone, unraveled, crazed in his anger. His hand flew out, at once expected and unexpected, and the silence was broken by the clap of skin on skin. The moment his hand met the previously unblemished skin of Kallias's cheek, he stumbled back, blinking back the beginning of tears.

"I... oh _god_, Kallias," he muttered, but Kallias was gone. The slam of the door reverberated through the room through his very soul. Sighning, Severus sank to a chair, afraid his legs would give way any moment. When the tears finally came, he didn't dare stop them, allowing them to fall unheeded down his palid cheeks. There he remained until he heard his door open once more and the Headmaster move towards him. He placed one hand on Severus' shoulder.

"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy," he said, simply.

Severus exhaled deeply a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. "This goes beyond that, Albus. You do not know -- _cannot _know... This is folly. Perhaps Lily was right to keep him from me, to hide him away..."

"Perhaps," replied the aging wizard, truthfully. "But you are not the man you one were, Severus."

"Yes," Severus murmured, mournfully. "And that, therein, lies the problem."

When Kallias fled the room, he walked aimlessly, not caring where he was going only wanting to put as much distance between himself and Severus as was possible. He was nearly distraught. The emotions he had kept at bay for days had now overflowed. He felt his father's loss with such urgency, such intensity, he ached with it. At once, anger and devestation warred within himself to be victorious. Anger at his father -- _how dare he keep such a thing like this to himself until Kallias could not question him himself _-- anger at his mother -- _why had she chosen this course of action? -- _and most vividly, perhaps because the person was the only one around for Kallias to place the blame on fully, anger at Severus. Who was_ he_ to say such things to Kallias? To talk about his mother's sacrifice! What did he know of how Kallias felt about his mother -- about _anything_, really? He didn't know. No one did. Save Raphi, of course, but then, Raphi knew everything about Kallias. Kallias loved Raphi, in his own way, as much as he was able to, at least.

Kallias had never known much about his mother, _yes_, that was true, but he loved her as all children love their parents. And yes, perhaps he was selfish -- _very much so, _in fact -- but Severus couldn't expect him to -- _no one_ could expect him -- to take part in this war. He'd not do it! It wasn't his war. He cared nothing for it. Blood purity -- how ridiculous! How barbaric! How absolutely needless! What did blood matter? Power mattered, yes, as it always had, as it always would... but it mattered not what sort of blood flowed through your veins. He wished he'd never come to this horrid country, wished he could flee from it. Back to Rome. Back to his parties, back to the men and women whose beds he frequented. Back to Raphi. Back to his _life_.

Around him, the hallway was bustling with students hurrying here and there, moving rapidly to classes. He supposed, absently, as he observed this, that he ought to be amongst their number, but he didn't see the point. Why should he attend classes _here_? So entrenched in his thoughts was he, that Kallias didn't even notice the cane -- or the wizard attached to said cane -- until Kallias was sent sprawling after tripping over it.

"Why, Lord Prince, if I knew this is what it took to have you on your knees at my feet, I'd have visited Hogwarts days ago," drawled the man, haughtily, as he helped set him to rights.

Kallias brushed his robes off, pushing his emotions off of his face with a bit of effort, a smirk replacing the frown. "If you wish, that can easily be arranged," Kallias all but purred. "For a price, of course."

"Indeed?" queried Malfoy, one blonde eyebrow arched.

"Yes, but perhaps it would be ... _ah_... more prudent of us to conduct this conversation in a more private location. It would be a terrible shock for your dear sweet wife to find out any... exotic proclivities you might have, would it not?" Kallias said, pointedly.

"Very well. May I assume you've a locale in mind?" asked Malfoy a bit stiffly.

Kallias inclined his head and lead Malfoy around the corner to the small room he'd stayed in the second night of his stay.

"Now, then, Mr. Prince, I do believe you mentioned a price?"

"Yes," said Kallias. He cocked his head to the side, his dark eyes studying Malfoy. "You needn't look so worried. It's nothing quite as dire as you must think. I simply require the name of your friend." All night long, the previous night, the dark haired man had starred in his dreams. Even now, hours later, Kallias could feel the power that man exuded.

Gray eyes surveyed him coolly. "My friend? I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. I've a great many friends."

Kallias sighed exasperatedly. "You'll forgive me, Malfoy, if I skip over the ridiculous pureblood dance for information that is sure to follow this. I haven't the patience or time for it this morning, and I know you must be a very busy man doing whatever it is you do, so I won't keep you longer than necessary. Last night you were in the company of a man. You know who it is I speak of. Dark hair, _red eyes_. Come now, don't look so surprised. Good lord, just because the education _here_ is appalingly lacking doesn't mean that it is the case everywhere. I am well-versed in the deception arts."

"How... surprising. I mean you no offense, Mr. Prince," he said at Kallias' affronted look. "I'm afraid you're not quite what I expected. Of course, given your reputation, I'm certain you understand," he commented, lightly. The corners of his lips had tightened, however. It was obvious he was rather displeased by this newfound information.

Kallias nodded slowly before sneering. "Oh, I understand perfectly. I know what they say about me. I drink, I party, I sleep around, I care only for myself. Am I correct?"

"Indeed."

Kallias shrugged. "More fools they, then. Surely you don't always give creed to mindless gossip, do you? Should _I_ give creed to mindless gossip?" His eyes lingered on Malfoy's left forearm.

Malfoy's mouth tightened into a hard line.. He sneered at Kallias. "You forget yourself," hissed Malfoy. "I do not know if this is how they conduct affairs in Rome, but here, in Britain, we prefer --"

"To stagnate?" offered Kallias. "To wrap yourselves in bureaucracy? To bred yourselves into a single family tree? To follow a mad man?"

Malfoy's wand was out and against Kallias' neck before Kallias took his next breath. "You are a _fool_! To speak of such things is madness... but you know this, do you not?" he remarked, stepping away from Kallias, realization settling in.

"What I know is of little consequence," said Kallias. "Who I know, however, is... you see, I have many friends on the continent. Friends who are extremely well-connected, you might say. Friends that would be willing to help me, if I required it, so I would advise you, Lord Malfoy, in the future, to refrain from pulling your wand on me if you wish for your political career to be prolific. I do believe -- but I may be wrong, of course -- that, despite the state of things being what they are, being a Death Eater still carries a life sentence in Azkaban, does it not? Seems a shame to end your career at this early stage... when you might very well be the next Minister of Magic, even if only as a figurehead. The elections are coming up soon, are they not?"

"_Do you know who I am?_" roared Malfoy, incensed, his cool exterior dropping to one of rage in a moment as he rounded on him. At Kallias's amused look, he took a deep breath. "Why are you trying to provoke me? What is it you think you are accomplishing by doing so? Blackmail? What do yo want from me?" he demanded.

"Accomplish?" asked Kallias, slowly, drawing his own wand. "Nothing. Why, Mr. Malfoy, I do believe you've mistaken me! You seem to have created this elaborate scheme in your head, but this is no intrigue. How fantastical your imagination is. Do spare me the histronics, Malfoy. It is most unbefitting for a man of your stature, wouldn't you say? And black mail? _No_, that was simply a warning -- a promise, if you will. I want nothing from you, save a name... the name of your friend, if you please."

Malfoy's breaths were heavy and harsh in the silent room. He pulled an envelope out from his inner robe and handed it to him. "Luckily, _for you_, I was commanded to bring you this. If it were up to me..." he let the statement hang.

Kallias's eyes widened at the Slytherin wax seal.

"_Lord Voldemort_," he breathed.

A malicious smile spread across Malfoy's face at Kallias's horrified look.


	10. Chapter 9

A huge storm hit my town and I had no power for four days!! Luckily, I wrote half of this prior to said storm. I shall begin the next chapter of The Facade of Innocence next, I think.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Nine  
In which Kallias does the unexpected -- or perhaps not _so_ unexpected

Kallias stared at the spot where Malfoy had stood not seconds ago for a long moment. The envelope still unopened in his hand. _Lord Voldemort_... the man the night before had been Lord Voldemort. It was unexpected. To be honest,he'd never really thought about the man who preferred to refer to himself as the Dark Lord Voldemort. Though, he expected... well, he wasn't certain _what _he had expected, but it certainly wasn't that the man responsible for hundreds of deaths would be quite so attractive. And powerful... yes, yes, he _was_ certainly _that_. The sort of power Kallias always sought in his partners, even unconsciously. Never had he bedded a muggle though he had had plenty of opportunities to do so and plenty of muggle friends. No, he was always drawn to those with power. Perhaps that was because he could feel it so acutely.

"Mr. Prince?" queried a voice from behind him, snapping Kallias out of his thoughts. He spun around to find the werewolf, Remus Lupin. There was a gasp. "What happened?" asked the man, indicating Kallias's face.

Kallias smiled, a bitter smile, shoving the envelope in his pocket while he did so. "Nothing," he said. "My cousin and I had a bit of a disagreement. It's nothing. What can I do for you, Professor?"

"The headmaster sent me to find you," Lupin said. He gave Kallias a small apologetic smile. "He wishes to speak to you, in his office, so, if you would follow me, I'm to take you there."

A sigh escaped his lips. "I'd really rather not," he said, tightly. Taking to Albus Dumbledore was not very high on his list of priorities. In fact, it wasn't on there at all.

"Yes, he did say you would not be pleased, but the truth is, you haven't a choice. Now, come along," the werewolf continued, his voice still polite to a fault.

Scowling, Kallias did as he was bade -- for now, at least. His curiosity always had been a dangerous thing. No doubt it would continue to prove so now.

The headmaster was not alone in his office. Severus and Sirius both stood off to the side, glaring hatefully at one another. Lupin, once there, remained. He moved to stand next to Sirius, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, my boy," said Dumbledore, smiling brightly. "Won't you have a seat?"

"I'd rather stand," Kallias replied, his eyes sweeping over the conglomerate before him. Severus met his gaze, wincing at the bruise that marred his cheek. Kallias arched an eyebrow at the man. If he was unhappy with seeing his handiwork, he ought not mar Kallias in the future.

"As you wish," Dumbledore said. "Now, I'm sure you are quite curious as to why I've called this meeting, of sorts. You see, your true parentage and identity has come to our attention."

Kallias sneered at Severus. "How... surprising, or rather _not_ surprising, considering. What of it?"

"This changes a great number of things, I'm sure you are aware of this," replied Dumbledore.

"I am not," Kallias said. "As I've told Severus, for me, it changes _nothing_. My father, _Severus Prince_, is dead. I've no need for another. Even if he were alive, I'm of age. Therefore, there is no question of custody to be answered. Beyond that, I see no reason that my identity -- or parentage -- would be _any_ of your concern, as my Headmaster, which is -- _of course_ -- the only role you play in my life."

Dumbledore's expression turned grave. "Your mother," he began before Kallias cut him off, firmly.

"My mother wished for Severus Snape to never know he had a son."

"-- did a very dangerous thing," Dumbledore finished, as if Kallias had not spoken. "She put not only you, but a number of other people in danger by spiriting you away in that manner. Not only did she put you in danger, but she took you away from those that loved you -- that love you still," he said, motioning towards Sirius and Lupin. "Sirius is your godfather, and Remus was dear friends with your mother and James."

Kallias shrugged. That at least explained why Sirius wouldn't meet his eye. For Merlin's sake, it wasn't as if they were truly _related_. Were all Brits as melodramatic as the ones he'd run across? For his sanity, he hoped _not_. "I, for one, am glad she did what she did. If she had not spirited me away -- as you so call it -- I would be dead now, would I not? Killed in the very same attack that killed them both, more than likely."

Dumbledore protested at once. "There's no evidence of that. It's very likely that the prophecy would have enabled you to survive the attack."

An ebony eyebrow rose. "Is it? And did the prophecy save Neville Longbottom as well?" Silence followed this question. "It matters not," he continued undeterred, "As it seems we shall never know the truth of it now, and it serves no purpose to contemplate any alternative conclusion. The truth of the matter, as you all know, is that my mother did what she thought best, and it has enabled me to live a life that, until _now_, I enjoyed rather immensely."

"Do you agree with your mother's actions, then?" asked Dumbledore.

"Why does it matter if I agree with her or not? What's done is _done._ I grew up with Severus Prince, and I am better for it. Whatever I wanted, I had. The best tutors, the best caretakers, the best of everything. I wanted for nothing."

"There is more to life, Harry, than material possessions."

Kallias's eyes narrowed dangerously. "My name is _n__ot_ Harry Potter, and I will not be referred to as such," he hissed.

A frown appeared on Dumbledore's face. "As you wish, Kallias. Despite your happy childhood, your mother did a terrible thing. She took your destiny away from you, took you away when the world had need of you. However, it is as you say. What's done is done. It's useless to wonder what could have been. You are back where you belong now," finished Dumbledore, quietly. "Will you do what needs to be done? Will you accept your destiny? Do what only _you_ can do and rid the world of Voldemort?"

Kallias laughed, then. He threw his head back and laughed. "You're _mad," _he said. "You speak of prophecy as if it were _fact. _It is _not_. Come now, Headmaster, you are a brilliant man, one of the most powerful wizards of the age. Surely, _surely_, you do not give credence to this madness!"

Dumbledore's frown became more pronounced. "I certainly _do_," said he, emphatically. "More importantly, Voldemort believes in it -- implicitly. You would be foolish to not take heed."

Kallias exhaled exasperatedly. "I would be foolish to not take heed?" he repeated.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Then a fool I am because I will _not_ compromise in this. Your prophecy -- if ever there was such a thing -- has been fulfilled by little Neville Longbottom all those long years ago. Once upon a November evening... isn't that the way the stories go? This is not my war," he said, firmly. "_This is not my war," _he repeated when it looked as if Dumbledore would protest further. "And, it is highly inappropriate for a headmaster of a school to conduct affairs of war on the ground of what is supposed to be an impartial institute of learning ----- with a student no less. Especially if this includes attempts at emotional blackmail and coercion. Please remember this in the future because I'll not warn you again, and I feel quite certain that the highly qualified Board of Governors that Hogwarts so often boasts of would be very interested in discovering what is going on behind the gates of their dear school. Now, I'll assume this meeting is at an end, if you've nothing further to say to me -- and by further, I mean if you've nothing to discuss that does not include my parentage, my identity or my involvement in your war."

The men in the room were dumbfounded to say the least. A satisfied smirk spread across Kallias's face at this. Raphi had always made sure that Kallias was made aware of any law that might be beneficial to him.

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore inclined his head. "You may leave," he said, simply.

Kallias inclined his head in return and left the room. Not, however, before hearing Sirius curse, Severus sigh, and Dumbledore say , "This is going to be a problem."

Kallias wandered about the castle, learning the various passage ways, and observing the students -- unseen -- for several hours before heading for his Apprentice Master's quarters. The castle was just as he'd always known it would be. When he was a child, Kallias had been fascinated by the castle. He swore to go there, but chose -- at the last minute -- to attend the Conservatorio instead. He didn't regret that decision. Sade threw the door open before Kallias could knock, and Kallias scarcely had time to draw a breath before he was being dragged inside.

"You stupid, _foolish_, reckless _boy,_" snarled the man, angrily. "Have you no sense in that pretty head of yours?"

Kallias glared. "Unhand _me_," he snarled. "I'll not be manhandled anymore today."

It was then that Sade noticed Kallias's cheek. He frowned and grabbed a small package off of a table. "Potion Master Snape brought this for you. He said it would help with the bruising. He came with _Albus Dumbledore_ to discuss the meeting they'd had with you -- along with _this_." He pushed the morning issue of the _Prophet _into his arms. The front page contained a picture of Malfoy sitting at a table -- his companion nowhere in sight -- as Kallias said goodbye to him. Of course, Kallias wasn't alone in the picture. Ralphi was embracing him from behind and murmuring in his ear.

An exhausted sigh escaped from his lips. "_Merlin,_ I haven't the energy to deal with this today."

Sade shook his head, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "And how was your meeting with the headmaster?"

Kallias snorted before falling gracefully onto an overstuffed armchair, sighing heavily as he sank into the cushions. "Meeting? Not any meeting _I've _ever had with a professor. It was more of a call to arms, if you will. I somehow doubt it will be the last such meeting. Albus Dumbledore, I believe, is quite a persistent man. It matter's not, however. I'll not change my mind. I'm confused as to why he brought our meeting to _your _attention. You're not my guardian."

Sade grunted in what Kallias assumed to be agreement. "Be that as it _may, _I am your Apprentice Master. Therefore it is customary to relay such information to me -- as it pertains, at least in _theory_ to your education. It's been decided that as the holidays are upon the students in the very near future, you aren't to join classes until after. However, you _will _report to me after breakfast tomorrow, Kallias. Unless, of course, you don't wish to see what I have for you -- or, I should say, what came for you from one N. Flamel."

Kallias gasped throwing himself out of the chair. "Did he send it? _Truly?" _

Sade shrugged. "I haven't the slightest. Be on time tomorrow, and you shall discover it yourself. Now, off with you."

"Can't I stay here awhile? I've no desire to return to the dormitory tonight," asked Kallias.

Sade let out a very put upon sigh before nodding. "I had the Headmaster add a room onto my quarters in case you should ever have need of it. And, Kallias, you would be wise not to take any man such as Albus Dumbledore on in the future. He is a powerful man and should not be trifled with."

Kallias waved his hands dismissively at Sade and gave the man an indulgent smile before sprinting to the empty room. Kallias was so thrilled by the news Sade had given him, he'd nearly forgotten the letter in his pocket. You see, Kallias wished to be an alchemist. Ever since he was a boy, Kallias had been utterly fascinated with transmutation. There were no more practicing alchemists in the wizarding world, however, as Nicholas Flamel, being the only surviving one, was much too weak to practice any more. Kallias had been in correspondence with the Flamels for several years. Had Nicholas Flamel been any healthier, he felt quite certain that he would be apprenticing with Nicholas and not Sade. However, Sade was a very proficient potions master, and Kallias had a head for potions even if his heart was in alchemy, so it was by no means a waste of his time.

The package in question could only be one thing. Nicholas's time on earth was drawing near, and for quite some time, Kallias had been attempting to persuade Nicholas to bequeath to him his notes. It seemed such a waste for all of that knowledge to be lost. Nicholas had, naturally, been wary, but it seemed as if he had changed his mind. Kallias was glad for it.

When Kallias was safely tucked away into the spare bedroom -- and by tucked away, he meant sprawled haphazardly across the bed contained within -- he pulled the envelope in.

A rich green ink announced its author on the front of the envelope. The letter -- if it could rightly be called that -- itself was written in the same green ink. And by letter, of course, he meant the one sentence of elegant calligraphy the paper contained.

_Saturday evening 8:00 p.m. at the Three Broomsticks. _

A meeting -- he had a meeting with the Dark Lord.

He thought of nothing else until dinner.

Dinner was a silent terse affair. Obviously the Slytherins -- Draco Malfoy, most of all -- were none too pleased about him gracing the front page with Lucius and Ralphi if the glares they shot at him were any indication. He cared very little for their displeasure or their photographs. He could have lived without the article, which contained wild speculation about whether or not Narcissa Malfoy approved of their affair and if he was ending things with Ralphi. Was there a love triangle in place? What would that mean for British politics? And so on and so forth.

Kallias wasn't bothered by it, really. He had no qualms about being involved with a married man. Not that he _was_ involved with Malfoy, mind, but still. Ralphi was married, after all, and had been some twenty years now. Of course, he'd married not for love but for the production of an heir. He was the true reason Kallias refused to budge on the marriage issue. Until Kallias came along, Ralphi had led a mostly empty life -- romantically, at least. He'd seen that he and his wife had the needed heir -- along with the two daughters that came before the heir -- but afterwards, he'd moved into a suite in the opposite wing. They didn't speak of it often -- or at all -- but Kallias knew that he could not bring himself to keep up such a facade! If ever _he_ married, it would be for love -- a burning, passionate, intense love that would consume him from the inside. Until then, he would settle for what he had now.

_However_, it seemed as if Little Malfoy and his sidekicks -- two rather large, dull-looking boys -- had decided to take matters in their own hands and accost him after dinner as he was walking to the Slytherin dorm.

"Stay away from my father, Prince," snarled the red-faced blonde.

Kallias arched an eyebrow. "Or?" he queried.

Malfoy shook his wand in Kallias's face. "Or I'll hex you!"

Kallias sighed. "Alright, then, if your mind's set on it. I suppose I could oblige you -- _if,_ of course, you've the skills to do so."

Another snarl erupted from the Malfoy heir as he opened his mouth to speak, but Kallias wasn't through speaking.

"But I do feel honor bound to tell you that if you _do_ hex me, I shall, in return, hex you. So, if you're keen on having children in the future I would rethink your options. Because I would really _hate _to render you childless -- and end the Malfoy line so prettily -- but I _would_." Kallias tapped his chin with a long slender finger. "Of course, it mightn't work at all, I can't say as I've never used it. Shall we assume dueling positions, then?"

Malfoy was a rather unattractive shade of puce. "We'll finish this later," he hissed and stalked off with his two friends, for lack of a better word, following behind him.

It was then that Kallias noticed the audience peering curiously at him. His eyes swept over them. The majority of them wore the Gryffindor emblem on their sweaters. He smiled to himself. He had a mind to speak to a certain Gryffindor.

"Well," he drawled. "Aren't you going to introduce yourselves to me or not?"

"But... _but_... you're a Slytherin," said a red-haired boy, confusedly.

"So I am," agreed Kallias, whole-heartedly. "Is it in the bylaws that Gryffindors aren't to associate with Slytherins?"

"No," another boy, with a thick Irish brogue, spoke up.

"Then, I believe an introduction is in order. You see, I've not found the Slytherins to be a particularly friendly sort. I'd hoped _you_ would be more friendly, but I can see I'm wasting my time here. Good day," Kallias finished with a nod of his head.

"_Wait!" _called out a girl with bushy hair.

Kallias turned, arching an ebony eyebrow. "Is it true that Il Conservatorio di Magio has a library four times the size with books dating back to nearly 10,000 b.c.?"

The crowd of boys groaned as Kallias nodded his head slowly. "It is."

She beamed happily. "Hermione Granger," she said, putting out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."


	11. Chapter 10

I want to clear up several things: just because I've chosen to include the Gryffindors in this chapter doesn't mean that they will be in every chapter.

That being said: Dumbldore will not disclose to the wizarding world who Kallias truly is. He knows that it isn't safe to do so. He wishes for Kallias to take up the mantle privately, at first.

A/N: I have a new poll on my page. I'm trying to come up with a more definite update schedule and rotation as I have six fics I am currently updating regularly (somewhat, of course) and one fic that I am in the process of attempting to rewrite (HP & THT). I will update in the order of popularity provided, of course, my muse cooperates with me. Anyway -- enjoy!

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth t o be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Ten  
In which Kallias gets a new perspective on several things

All things considered, Kallias had to admit that he was rather fond of the Gryffindor common room. It was rather garish, yes, but in a quaint sort of way. There was a fire roaring in the hearth which made the room quite warm, and the sheer multitude of bodies contained within the room certain didn't help matters any, but that was neither here or there. Unlike the quiet elegance of the Slytherin common room which had the unfortunate side effect of being rather like a tomb, Gryffindor was positively _thriving_. There were people perched on every available surface, some studying, others playing chess or Exploding Snap, and yet others -- like the girls currently making dewey eyes at Kallias -- gossiping.

He was sitting in the corner with Hermione Granger, the very loquacious muggleborn, and Ronald Weasley, the sixth son and youngest child of Arthur Weasley. Kallias had to admit he knew little about the Weasley's besides their obvious pureblooded status. He'd been in the common room with the two Gryffindors for the past half-hour and Granger hadn't stopped talking for a moment. Weasley, he noticed, was casting longing glances to the center of the room where the rather loud Irish wizard from before and a dark-skinned wizard were playing Exploding Snap.

"... must be _utterly _fascinating!" finished Hermione, breathlessly. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement.

Ronald rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Hermione, take a breath! You've not given the poor bloke a moment's peace since you met him."

Hermione fixed an icy glare on Ronald and sniffed. "Not that I expect _you_ to understand the significance, _Ronald Weasley_, but there's not been a transfer student in -"

"Close to two centuries," supplied a strained voice behind them.

Ronald looked positively relieved. "Sirius," he sighed. "_Merlin_, I'm glad you're here."

The angry look on Sirius's face faded, replaced momentarily by an impish grin. "Professor Black, Ron, I'm on official Hogwarts business."

At this Kallias arched an elegantly shaped brow and cocked his head to the side. "Are you now, _Professor_?"

Ronald and Hermione snapped their heads to stare at Kallias, almost as if they'd forgotten he was there, though he knew they hadn't because Ronald hadn't been exaggerating when he said Hermione had been talking since the moment they shook hands.

"Yes," replied Sirius, tightly. Kallias thought he looked very uncomfortable, the poor man. Suppose he _had _had a very dramatic sort of day.

"Well, we shan't keep your official Hogwarts business, will we? Go on, then..."

Hermione and Ronald looked warily at one another.

"Right," Sirius muttered. "Right." He cleared his throat. "I need to speak to you," he told Kallias.

"By all means..." said Kallias, indicating that he should join them.

"In my office," was the terse reply.

"That's fine," said Kallias, blithely. "Shall we set up an appointment for tomorrow?"

Sirius turned an unattractive shade of red. "_Now,"_ he all but snarled.

Kallias arched an eyebrow at the man's antics and then shrugged. "All right, then, Professor -- whatever you think necessary. Quite odd, though, given the time, but then again, I'm new to Hogwarts, and I suppose it could be normal to have meetings with students at all hours."

All of the color drained from Sirius face. He appeared to flail for all of a minute before closing his face off. "It is _not _usual, but this is a rather urgent matter."

Kallias sighed resignedly. Well, he _had _wanted to speak to Sirius, hadn't he? He unfolded his body and rose out of the seat fluidly. He flashed a mischevious grin to Hermione along with a wink. "I shan't be long. Perhaps you could go and get me one of those badges for that club of yours -- S.P.E.W., was it? Sounds like a very noble cause."

Ronald scowled, but Hermione looked positively giddy. "_Of course!_" she said.

Kallias followed Sirius out of the common room and down the hall where he knew Sirius's office -- and personal room -- to be.

But it was quite obvious that Sirius had no intention of going beyond the office. He practically collapsed into the rather comfy looking chair behind his desk upon entering the room.

"You wished to speak to me?" he asked pointedly, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

"Did you know?"

Kallias, clever boy that he was, didn't need clarification, though Sirius provided it. "When we ... _you know_ -- did you know?"

Kallias had no intention of making this easy on him. He watched Sirius for a moment. "You want to know, if I _knew_ you were my godfather when the two of us... were intimate?"

A terse nod.

"Do you think me depraved?" he asked.

Sirius blanched. "_No_ --"

"Do you think yourself depraved, then?" Kallias hedged. He received another terse nod for a response. "You really needn't," replied Kallias, honestly. "We're not related."

"I'm your godfather -- we're as good as family!"

Kallias sighed. "_No_, you're Harry Potter's godfather. Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, doesn't _exist_. I'm Kallias Prince, legally and actually. I'm not Harry Potter, I don't wish to be Harry Potter -- and I will not _ever_ be Harry Potter."

Another heavy silence fell between the men. "Look," said Kallias, softly. "I don't pretend this is at all easy for you, Sirius. It isn't -- and not just for _you_. The truth is, I _didn't_ know when we were intimate -- on either matter."

Sirius let out a small sigh of relief at that. "Alright then," he said, at last.

"If there's nothing further?" inquired Kallias. He could tell that his topic of conversation would not be well-received on this evening -- or probably any evening, for that matter.

"Do you mean that?" asked Sirius.

"Mean what?"

"That bit about Harry Potter not existing," Sirius said, a bit reluctantly, as if the words tasted strange on his tongue.

"If I say yes, is there any chance you -- and those whom you are actually inquiring _for_ -- will accept that?" Kallias was no fool. Sirius may have wanted to ask Kallias here, initially, for his own peace of mind, but that wasn't his only reason for wanting to speak with Kallias.

"Yes," he said, hesitantly.

Kallias gave him a pointed look. "Yes, I do. I meant every word I said, now and then. I mostly _always_ say what I mean. I really hope I need not give _you_ the same warning I gave Dumbledore, but I will. I'll not become involved in his war. If you -- or _he_ or anyone else-- press me further on this matter, I will take it up with the Board of Governors. That is not an idle threat. I'm quite certain that Lucius Malfoy would find the matter _extremely _interesting, don't you agree?"

A dark look flitted across Sirius's face. "Fine! I didn't expect a _Slytherin_ to do the right thing -- or Snape's son -- _n__asty_, vile, dark wizard that he is."

Kallias tensed. "Severus Snape is _nothing_ to me!" He snarled, his composure quickly fraying. "And surely you -- a _Black_ -- aren't suggesting that _I _am a dark wizard simply because of my parentage? Because that _Lord Black_ would be quite hypocritical, but that seems to be the way of things here in jolly ol' England. Might I remind you that you know very little about me, precious little indeed? I'm not a practitioner of black magic -- never _once_ have I cast an Unforgivable -- not that I expect _you_ to believe me."

Kallias's breathing was harsh when he finished and he dropped into one of the chairs in front of Sirius's desk. "Is this to be the way of it, then? Either I'm to be Harry Potter, your beloved godson or else I'm shucked off to be the son of Severus Snape, Death Eater and evil incarnate? Never again am I allowed to simply be myself, Kallias Prince?" His tone was devoid of emotion, he felt drained, suddenly, the emotions of the day quickly catching up to him. "It seems quite unfair to punish me for something I have absolutely no choice in."

Sirius's gray eyes widened. He began back peddling immediately. "Of course _not!"_

Kallias nodded. "May I be excused, then, if you've nothing further, Professor?"

Sirius looked a bit taken aback at Kallias's tone and his expression. It wasn't that Kallias hadn't expected this, after all. He'd known, from the moment he'd entered that little _meeting_ earlier that this would be a rather difficult time for him. He hadn't counted on Sirius not being supportive though. Not that he knew the man well either -- he didn't, just as Sirius didn't know _him_ -- it was just that he had expected Sirius to understand him -- out of _everyone _involved. Who knew better than Sirius what sort of upbringing Kallias had had? The pureblood mantra, the traditions, the pageantry of it all? Not that Severus Prince hadn't loved Kallias, because he certainly _had_, but always at arm's length and only, of course, the parts of Kallias that he found acceptable.

That was the reason that he thrived so in Rome. Without his father's presence, he was free to be himself. To find himself back in the sort of environment where he was being forced to play one of two roles -- neither of which were very appetizing to Kallias -- it was quite disconcerting to him.

"Wait!" said Sirius when Kallias moved to leave.

Kallias stopped, but didn't bother to turn around. "Yes?"

"What happened to your face?" asked Sirius.

"Do _you_ care or are you simply reporting back to your master, Dumbledore?" Kallias shot back, acidly, whipping around. He'd grown tired of this absurd dance.

Sirius's mouth opened, closed, and opened once more. His gray eyes flashed in anger. "I'll ignore that last remark. Dumbledore is a _good_ man, and he is _nothing _like Voldemort."

Kallias's eyes widened. "_I _never said he was, incidentally, _you_ did, but -- as the muggles say -- if the shoe fits..."

It seemed to take a great deal of effort for Sirius to rein in his temper. "I care," he said, finally.

"My _father _happened_," _Kallias snarled. "You see, he isn't any happier than you about me not wishing to be Harry Potter. So tell me, Sirius, do you wish to strike me as well?"

Sirius's look was rather stricken.

Kallias took this as an opportunity to leave. "Do tell Dumbledore what I've said, will you?"

Sirius nodded, never taking his eyes off of Kallias. Kallias suspected, as he left the room, that he was already flooing up to the Headmaster's office.

When Kallias returned to the Gryffindor common room, it was not _as_ crowded -- obviously the younger years were missing, but he quickly made his way back to where Ronald and Hermione were. They had been joined by the Irish wizard and the dark-skinned boy, who were introduced to him as Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, respectively.

Though he was still seething inside, he managed to not let it show. He ignored the look Ronald -- _Ron_, the boy insisted -- sent him when Kallias was quick to pin the S.P.E.W. badge Hermione gave him on his outer robe.

"Slavery, of all sorts, is deplorable," said Kallias at Ron's raised brow.

"You probably have loads of house elves," Ron retorted, scowling once more. "I've heard about Prince Manor... it rivals Malfoy Manor, doesn't it?"

Kallias shrugged. "_I _wouldn't know -- I've never been to Malfoy Manor, thank Merlin for that, but appearances can be deceiving. We've house elves, of course, but they've been given the option of leaving -- I gave it to them myself when I returned to the manor just the other day, and not a one would."

"You _see_, Ronald Weasley..." and off she went on another lecture. Kallias watched this all with a somehwhat bemused smile on his face. He suppressed the urge to sigh. He had hoped to find someone of like mind here, but it seemed that was not to be. It was quite obvious that Ron Weasley was rather determined not to like him, and though he was sure Hermione was a likable girl -- she was certainly enthusiastic -- there was something about her manner that bothered him slightly. It was only curiosity -- and the overwhelming desire to _not_ discuss with Sade his argument with Sirius -- that caused Kallias to remain where he was.

Seeing Seamus and Dean sitting near Kallias, even though he didn't speak to them, had made the other students a bit braver. It didn't take long for two giggling girls. ("_Lavender Brown_," one said. "_Pavarti Patil_," said the other, blushing as Kallias brushed his lips across her hand.) Pavarti was rather pretty, in an exotic sort of way with her toffee colored skin and her long silky hair, but he simply hadn't the energy for this sort of thing at the moment.

_However_, the two girls seemed none the wiser as they were completely oblivious to Kallias's indifference.

"So, they say that you've got to marry to keep your inheritance?" asked Lavender, fluttering her eyelashes most annoyingly.

Kallias gave a curt nod. "They do say that," he said at last.

"Is it true?" Pavarti asked, inching closer to him, her almond shaped eyes widening.

"Yes, it's true," Kallias replied, finally. There was no sense in denying it. Someone had leaked it to the press, of course his comments in the Italian paper had been reported here as well. "If I intend to keep my title as Lord Prince," -- or his life, but he needn't tell _them_ that. That, at least, Ralphi had been able to keep from the press -- "then I must marry."

Hermione let out a shriek of outrage. "That's..._oh_! That's horrid!"

Ron snorted. "That's purebloods for you, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't see _your _parents forcing _you_ to marry."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, well, we're the Weasley's, aren't we? And even if we did that sort of thing, I'm not the heir, am I? That'd be Bill, wouldn't it? Not that we've anything like what _he_ has..." he trailed off.

"So when your parents die, Bill will get the Burrow, then?" she asked.

Frowning, Ron nodded. "Well, yeah, it's like I said -- Bill's the heir. He'll inherit whatever there is to inherit. I was too young to remember when he signed his contract, and I'm sure it wasn't anything like what he had to sign, but yeah."

"And what about _you_?" she hissed. "What'll you get? Or Charlie for that matter? Or Percy? Or, Merlin forbid, the _twins_?"

"Er, uh," Ron looked around, hopeless for a moment. He sighed. "It's... well, we're.. _different_. It's not normal for purebloods to have so many kids, is it? Look at the Malfoy's... not even a spare, generation after generation."

"A _spare_?" Her voice was so shrill, Kallias winced slightly.

"Well, _yeah_."

"An heir and a spare, that's all you need," quoted Pavarti dutifully,

"Is that what you are then?" she snarled at Ron. "The fifth _spare?" _

Ron's look was indignant. "Of course not!"

"Sometimes," the outraged girl continued, "I forget just how _barbaric _the wizarding world _is!_ It's like they've never left the Dark Ages!"

"Look," said Kallias, recognizing that things were quickly spinning out of proportion. "It's.. well, it's inexcusable, really, there's no other words for it, but nothing I do -- or _you_, for that matter -- will change it. It's how things have been done for generations..."

Another shriek cut him off. "And that makes it right, does it? Americans kept _human slaves_ for decades, does that mean _that _was right as well? The status quo is just that!" And with that, she swept from the room.

There was a moment of silence before everyone began to talk again as if her outburst had never occurred.

"Don't let her get to you," said Ron, slowly. "Hermione's... well, she's a nutter, but she means well. She doesn't know what its like, you know. She's a muggleborn. I mean, her parents are dentists, for crying out loud and she's an only child."

Kallias nodded, but inside, his mind was beginning to churn. What Hermione Granger said about the status quo was quite enlightening. "Yes, well, perhaps she's on to something..." he said, offhandedly to the boy. He stood, quickly, giving the room a short farewell before heading back to Sade's quarters. Despite all the annoyances of the night -- the many _many _annoyances -- it seemed that it had proven useful to meet the Gryffindors. He was uncertain if he was keen on spending more time with them, but he supposed it couldn't hurt, in the end.

"You've access to a floo, don't you?" he asked his Apprentice Master.

Sade gave him a shrewd look. "Of course," he said, waspishly. "Why wouldn't I?"

Kallias quirked an eyebrow. "Might I use it?"

"Do I have a choice?" asked Sade.

"Do _you_ think you have a choice?" countered Kallias.

Sade glared and shooed him out of the room. "In my study," he told him.

Kallias beamed. "See you in the morning, then."

Several minutes later, he was waiting, rather impatiently, for Ralphi to appear in the flames.

"Kallias," said the man, warmly.

"Tell me," Kallias began, "what sort of political office am I able to hold now that I'm Lord Prince?"


	12. Chapter 11

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth t o be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Eleven  
In which Kallias is betrayed

Ralphi's brow furrowed. "Political offices?" he asked.

"Yes," drawled Kallias. "As Lord Prince, surely I am allowed to take up my seat on the Wizengamot, am I not?"

"I'm not certain," Ralphi said, slowly. "That is generally the custom, yes, but it's.. well, in Rome its fairly unheard for someone of your age to _wish_ to take their seat. However, if you want --"

"I _do_," Kallias insisted.

"Shall I see what I can do, then? But my dear Kallias, you are woefully ignorant in the matters of politics. You've never seem very interested in it."

"Of course not," replied Kallias. "Why would _I_ have need of politics? Or business, either? Those are more your forte, really."

"So you can understand my confusion, then."

Kallias smiled sweetly. "I do. Perhaps I should explain. Well, you see, I've decided that I cannot -- in good conscience -- allow Britain to remain several centuries behind their contemporaries. It's time their laws -- especially those regarding inheritance, matters of blood purity, and the classification of magic -- were updated, don't you think?"

"Well, yes--"

"So you agree, then, that I should take up any offices I am due and do what I can to ensure that the sort of laws that seek to keep Britain in the Dark Ages are not allowed through?"

Ralphi was oddly quiet. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully.

"As your mentor, I would advise against that. I know, better than you, just how volatile the political atmosphere can be during a wartime regime. I needn't tell you that anyone who goes against the status quo is removed_, _Kallias. Check, if you do not believe me, the number of unexplained disappearances, unaccounted for accidents, or even deaths over the last five years. The statistics more than speak for themselves."

Kallias pursed his lips. In Roman wizarding society, it was often encouraged for a wizard upon his fifteenth birthday to become involved in a mentoring relationship with an older, more experienced wizard. The older guided the younger in any number of things. The Romans borrowed this, like many other things, from the Greeks. It wasn't identical to the sort of relationships fostered by the Greeks as the pair needn't become sexually involved and the majority, in fact, did not. However, the fact of the matter was that despite the fact that he and Ralphi had entered into the official mentorship together, it had been more than a year since the two had begun their intimate relationship. Since then, he'd never once pulled the mentoring card, so the fact that he _had _said a great deal to Kallias. Not that Kallias planned on heeding his warnings, of course, but it still posed the question: why had Ralphi had such an about face? He intended to find out.

"And, as your _lover_, I would hope that your support extends to even those things you do not agree with. Why do _you_ care about the war, anyhow? You never have. Wasn't it _you, _after all, who said that the war was little more than an excuse for the ministry to eliminate those they consider dark?" Kallias asked, pointedly.

Ralphi sighed, closing his eyes in defeat. "I don't care about the war," he said. "I care about you! Do you have any idea what it would do to me if something were to happen to you? I'd go mad!"

"I am in no danger," he told the man, dismissively. "And even if I _were_, you know as well as I that I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. Did I or did I not bring home the prize for first place in the International Dueling League tournament not only this year but the previous as well?"

"Well, yes, of course, you did. It isn't a matter of you being able to protect yourself against your equals, Kallias. What of those who best you?" countered Ralphi.

Kallias fixed him with a withering stare. "I am not so arrogant as to suggest that I am unstoppable. We seem to have gotten grossly off topic. The question I am asking you is a fairly simple one to answer. Are there or are there not any political offices I am entitled to due to my now being the Lord Prince?"

Ralphi sighed heavily. "As per your father's will, his seat on the Wizengamont and his place on the International Confederation of Wizards are yours -- provided, of course, you met their requirements," he said, reluctantly.

"Brilliant," breathed Kallias. "And the requirements?"

There was a pause and then another resigned sigh. "I shall owl them over."

"Or you could simply bring them to the burial tomorrow," Kallias suggested.

There was another pause. "I'm afraid I won't be attending the burial."

Now, it was Kallias's time to furrow his brow. "You won't be attending the burial," he repeated. "Why ever not?"

"It is highly inappropriate, Kallias. You know the traditions as well as I -- burials are to be shared only with family and spouses. If you were having a memorial service, I would be happy to attend..."

"To hell with traditions!" cried Kallias, outraged. "You _must_ come!" What he left unsaid was that Kallias wasn't even certain he could get through the burial without Ralphi beside him.

"I cannot. To do so would be blasphemous, Kallias. It would be saying to the world that _I _am your spouse--"

Kallias cut him off with a snarl. "_Do not finish that sentence!_"

"But I am not."

Kallias's lips curled into a vicious sneer. "I am more than aware that you've a wife."

"Then you must know what an insult this would be to her, to my family--"

Kallias let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, that's rich, coming from _you!_"

"Let me finish!" exclaimed the man. It was so unusual for the normally calm and collected man to loose his composure. Kallias was startled to hear the man raise his voice -- especially when it was directed at himself.

"You cannot know how wretched I feel, Kallias, that I cannot be there for you on this day of all days, but propriety demands it! Please do not make this any harder than it needs to be."

"Forgive me," spat Kallias. "How rude of me to be so thoughtless! If you had any idea what I was going through -- truly going through -- you would understand why it is that I want you there -- _need_ you there."

"But I do know," he said, quietly. "I spoke to your father earlier this afternoon."

It took Kallias the length of one heartbeat to discern Ralphi's meaning. He blanched momentarily before regaining his composure, a delicious rage spreading throughout his body. "My father is dead," said Kallias, coldly.

"You know to whom I refer," Ralphi told him, pointedly. At Kallias's raised eyebrow, he continued. "As I've said, he visited me this afternoon. Imagine my surprise when my secretary opened the door and ushered in not only Severus Snape, but Albus Dumbledore as well."

Kallias's blood ran cold. "And what, may I ask, was the purpose of their visit?"

"They are worried about you, Kallias, and I must say that I concur with them. It was foolish of you to accompany me to the ball. It was foolish of _me_ to allow it. You cannot be so reckless in the future. What if something were to happen to you?"

"To me or to Harry Potter?" asked Kallias. His voice was soft, deceptively so. There was something lurking beneath the surface that Ralphi seemed to pick up on at once.

"You, of course, you know how I feel about you," Ralphi said. "I'd do anything for you."

"Oh?" snarled Kallias. "And why then, pray tell, have you done naught but try to dissuade me from pursuing what it is that I desire? Why, then, would you allow me to attend my father's burial _alone_?"

"You won't be alone, you will be with Severus. It is best this way. You must accept that things are no longer what they once were --"

Realization dawned on Kallias, then."Whose words are you parroting back to me?" he demanded. "Not your own... no, I know you all too well, Ralphi. Never once have you cared about propriety. Not when you first invited me, a fifteen year old boy, to your bed nor on any other occasion. No, you are much too selfish for that. And insulting your family? Like I said, that's rich. Oh, but now, I understand. It's all beginning to make sense to me. These aren't _your_ thoughts and concerns but _theirs!_"

"They are mine as well," said Ralphi, quietly.

"I don't believe that. How many balls have we attended together, Ralphi? How many times have we graced the front covers together? How many public embraces have we shared? I've lost count, so do not try -- _do not try_ -- to tell me that you give a damn about propriety That is nothing but a lie!"

"I do care! It is you who cares for nothing and no one but yourself. I have made many mistakes, but there is nothing I regret quite so much as inviting you into my bed. Do not mistake me, Kallias, I love you, far more than I should -- far more than I have right -- but I have done you grievous injury. You were just a child, and I took advantage of you and for that I cannot begin to apologize enough."

The moment he uttered the words, he wished to take them back, but he could not. For better or worse, they now lay between the two lovers. He opened his mouth to say something -- what, he didn't know -- but it was quite obvious that Kallias was not listening to him. His face was devoid of all emotion, a look of bored indifference gracing the aristocratic features.

"I won't keep you, any longer, Lord Benefici. It's clear that you are unable or unwilling to help me, and I know you are a busy man," he said. "Once I've secured a new barrister, I'll have him -- or her -- contact you so that you can bring them up to speed on how best to manage my affairs and any pertinent information regarding my inheritance."

Ralphi looked at him, aghast. "Whatever for?"

"Propriety demands it. Do give my regards to your family, won't you?" said Kallias before disconnecting the floo call abruptly. Within seconds, he was stalking through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts in search of one Severus Snape.

He'd never been to the man's quarters proper, but he'd seen them in passing, on his way to and from his dormitory, so it wasn't an arduous task in the least to find them. He didn't even bother with knocking. Why should he? It wasn't as if he -- Kallias -- was afforded any privacy here. Why should he extend Severus privileges that he, himself, did not receive?

Severus was nursing what appeared to be a fine scotch, if the scent was to be trusted, and leafing through a heavy tome when Kallias entered the room. He looked up, surprised to see the seething boy in front of him.

Never before had Kallias been so angry. Of course, there was betrayal and hurt beneath the surface, but it was anger that he felt towards the Potions Master.

"How _dare_ you?" hissed Kallias. "What right do you have -- who do you think you are?"

Severus arched an eyebrow at Kallias's lacking speech. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Within seconds, Kallias was across the room, his wand pressed deeply into Severus's neck. "You know very well what I am talking about! What were you hoping to accomplish by speaking to Ralphi?"

Severus's lips were set in a tight line. "Lower your wand," bit out the man between clenched teeth.

Kallias gave his head a small shake. "I rather think not. Again I ask, what were you hoping to accomplish by speaking to Ralphi? Were you trying to ensure that I was completely alone -- totally bereft from all forms of support? Does it give you some pleasure to know that you are hurting me?"

With some difficulty, Severus swallowed deeply. "That was not my intention at all. We were only hoping that he would be able to reason with you. To make you understand that I _am_ your family -- and what exactly goes along with that. The responsibilities, the duties..."

"Of _Harry Potter! _The only responsibilities _I _have are to myself, and none of them -- none of them! -- are any of your concern."

_"_You are one and the same. The sooner you are able to coincide this fact, the better," replied Severus with an ease that Kallias thought he ought not to have, considering Kallias's wand was still pressed harshly into his neck.

"And what if Ralphi were not a trustable sort of man? Will you go revealing my identity to everyone if you think it for the greater good of wizarding kind? You've said it yourself, the danger that goes along with it, surely you thought of that before you opened your unbelievably large mouth!" Kallias snarled.

"The headmaster believed him to be trustworthy," began Severus.

"The headmaster?" parroted Kallias. "The headmaster believed him to be trustworthy?"

"Yes," Severus croaked as Kallias dug the wand in further.

It all came back to the Headmaster. Everything did. Always. It did not endear the man to Kallias. Not at all.

Kallias pulled himself away from Severus abruptly, his lips curling into a sneer as the man gasped for breath. "Keep away from me," Kallias told him before turning on his heels and exiting the room before Severus had a chance to retaliate.

Unfortunately, that was simply not to be. At least for the time being as tomorrow was burial, and Severus would be attending, of course. That did not mean, however, that Kallias had to speak to the man because that was not his intention at all. In fact, he discovered that, upon seeing Severus at breakfast the next morning, it took all the will power he possessed to not hex him on sight. Even the Slytherins seemed to notice his foul mood as they stayed safely away from him. Draco Malfoy seemed particularly unwilling to risk his ire. It was seeing Draco again, however, that gave Kallias the most brilliant idea.

He wasn't lying when he told Ralphi that he was seeking a new barrister. While Kallias was not fool enough to trust either the Headmaster or Severus, he had trusted _him, _so it went without saying that he felt betrayed by the man's words -- and actions. Betrayal was not something he took lightly. The man seemed to regret it, if the owl he'd received the night before and the other he'd received this morning -- both returned, unread, to sender -- were any indication but that was neither here nor there. The damage was done. Kallias planned to send several letters of inquiry to a number of notable firms on the continent that might be able to provide him with someone suitable for what he required for the managing of his estate. However, he was still in need of someone to help him with obtaining the political power he desired. Someone that would not report his actions back to the Headmaster. Someone that the headmaster would not dare try to intimidate.

Lucius Malfoy.

Politically, Lucius Malfoy was vicious, cruel, and absolutely _ruthless_. He went after what he wanted and did not stop until he had achieved it. He would be the perfect person to show Kallias the ropes -- if Kallias could get him to agree that is.

From breakfast, he headed directly towards the Entrance Hall. He was to meet Severus here so that they could depart for the burial. He wasn't surprised in the least to see that Severus was already there.

Upon seeing Kallias, Severus sneered. He thrust the port-key towards the boy and bade him grab hold. Kallias did so without a word. The rain was falling in sheets when they arrived at the graveyard. Kallias suppressed a sigh and quickly cast a charm to stave off the rain and another to dry his already wet clothing.

"Professor Snape, Lord Prince," said a cloaked man, his entire manner deferential.

Kallias acknowledged the man with an incline of his head as did Severus.

"If you would come this way, we can begin."

And so it began. The ceremony was short as his father had wanted. After a series of murmured incantations -- all done by Kallias -- the charmed casket began to lower itself into the ground. Severus fell back into the background with the cloaked man -- Kallias could not for the life of him recall said man's name -- but Kallias could not take his eyes off the casket. He blinked rather absently at the tears that had begun to gather in his eyes. He'd not cry over his father. He was far too angry with him. Why had he not told him? Surely he must have known how difficult, how complicated, this would make his life? Kallias hated him for that. He would have given anything if only to go back to how it was before. When he was deliciously oblivious to his identity, when his only concern was whose bed he would frequent next, when he was surrounded by his friends. Now, _now_, things were decidedly different. He was stuck in this dreadful country utterly alone save for Sade.

He made a strangled noise as the casket disappeared from sight. His father was dead. _His father was dead_. His father was dead. He'd known it before, of course, but now there was no more denying it.

This time when the tears came, he didn't bother to stop them.


	13. Chapter 12

The meeting with the Dark Lord will take place next chapter. Any suggestions?

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth t o be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Twelve  
In which Kallias Dances

"You've a letter," said Sade, softly, when Kallias returned from Prince Manor. He'd spend the afternoon in his father's study sending out inquiries for a new barrister. He'd also penned a letter to Lucius Malfoy asking for his political guidance. He'd sent all of the letters before leaving, so surely it was still too early to hope for a response.

"Who from?" he queried. He divested himself of his outer robes before throwing himself onto Sade's couch, sighing heavily as he did so.

"Ralphi."

Kallias's obsidian eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a vicious sneer before his face smoothed out to show only bored indifference, Kallias's preferred expression. "Hmm."

Sade's probing gaze watched him carefully, a sneer of his own on his face. "Petulance does not suit you," he told the boy.

"Does it not?"

"Will you not even read the missive, then?" asked Sade, mildly.

"I will not," Kallias stated firmly. "Lord Benefici has made it abundantly clear that he has no further use for me."

"Very well." The was an air of resignation about Sade. How very interesting. "As you well know, your excursions have caused you to become yet further behind in your experimentation. You have squandered this moon cycle and now must wait until the next. What you choose to do until then is up to you. You may, of course, simply take a break. No one would begrudge you that, least of all me. In fact, circumstances being what they are, the board might even encourage a short sabbatical in your apprenticeship, should you wish it." Seeing Kallias's indignant look, however, he continued, "Or you might use this time to begin your perusal of Flamel's journals."

A hungry look spread across Kallias's face, his dark eyes focused intently on the tomes that had appeared in Sade's hands, leaving Sade with no doubt as to which course of action he would choose, though he did verbalize it. "The journals, of course."

Kallias watched as Sade visibly relaxed. Kallias's hunger for knowledge was something he was well accustomed to. "As you wish. I told Master Snape I would lend him a hand with the brewing of several more intricate potions, including the Wolfsbane Potion, so I shall be in my laboratory for some time, should you need me," he said, handing Kallias one of the tomes and then walking towards the door of his laboratory. Only when he was gone did Kallias notice Ralphi's letter sitting on the table as well.

"_Incendio_," he intoned, without even the smallest twinge of regret, before delving into the journals.

When he was finally able to pull himself out of Nicholas Flamel's journey of exploration and experimentation on just how far one could stretch the bonds of magic, he was stiff, hungry, and cold. The fire burning in the hearth had long since died out. He stood and stretched languidly. No doubt Sade was still brewing despite the late hour, so he headed to the laboratory after placing the journals on the table.

"So, Sade, how do you feel about immortality?"

Sade's head whipped around, his icy blue eyes burning into Kallias's obsidian ones. He let out a whoosh of air. "Really? Do you think you can do it?"

"Yes," Kallias said, nodding. "Not immediately, of course, as quite a few of the ingridients have been outlawed for some years, but once I am able to obtain the desired materials, I should think I will be able to. It will take a great deal of time and some... sacrifices on my part, but _yes_, I think I can manage it." _Well, _he allowed to himself, _one day_. He was in no hurry, after all.

"What sort of materials?" asked Sade, suspiciously.

Kallias gave him a pointed look, wagging one of his fingers at the man. "I shan't tell."

Sade raised one of his eyebrows. "And how do you hope to obtain these items?"

"I haven't exactly figured that part out yet, but I've a meeting this weekend with someone that may prove instrumental to that. Now, shall I help you with the Wolfsbane? I've been thinking that if we try several counter clockwise stirs mixed in with the customary clockwise stirs, it might make the transformation a bit... shall we say, gentler?"

"By all means, if you think it'll work, you are welcome to try..."

The next day it was nearly dark when Kallias managed to drag himself out of bed. He'd spent the better part of the night helping Sade with the brewing, staying up even after Sade had given up and gone to bed. He pulled on his favorite pair of denims and one of his warmest jumpers. He ran a hand through his messy hair before citing it as a lost cause and leaving his room, shivering as he did so. Merlin, but he hated the weather here. He'd not felt warm since he arrived. He cast a warming charm before heading towards the living room. He supposed he ought to put in an go down to the Great Hall for at least _one _meal a day.

Sade was slowly flipping through one of Flamel's journals when Kallias entered the living area. He raised an eyebrow at Kallias's bedraggled appearance. "You've another letter. From Lucius Malfoy. Care to tell me why Lucius Malfoy is contacting you?"

"Not really," said Kallias, taking the proffered envelope. He dropped onto the couch so he could read said letter.

_Prince, _

_I find myself rather intrigued by your inquiry considering how we parted ways. If you're serious, and I shall know if you are not,  
then perhaps you would care to join me for a drink this evening at 8:00 p.m. sharp in the Hog's Head. I am aware it is not a Hogsmeade weekend, so I've enclosed with you a letter of permission to visit the village whenever necessary signed by all twenty members of the Board as you are now Lord Prince and may -- from time to time -- be required to leave school and take care of your affairs. Though I daresay you don't seem to take issue with breaking a few school rules.  
_

_-- L.M. _

"Going to dinner, then, are you?" asked Sade.

Kallias tore his eyes off of the letter, refolding it and tucking it into his pocket. "Looks like it. Don't wait up. I might nip down to village afterward," Kallias told him shrugging into an outer robe and leaving before Sade could question him further.

Once in the Great Hall, his eyes swept dismissively over the students. Granger and Weasley caught his eye, but he flopped down next to Blaise Zabini instead.

"I'm completely fagged," he told the boy. "Don't suppose this place has any coffee?"

"Not that I'm aware of," replied Zabini, coolly. "I'd really rather you didn't sit next to me. Or speak to me, actually. I got a months worth of detentions for your little party the other night -- not that I expect _you'll _care or anything. Nott's pretty angry, too. Seems you're fairly good at making enemies for yourself, Prince. I'd watch that if I were you."

Kallias scoffed softly. "Was that a threat?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Zabini.

Zabini quirked an eyebrow. "And if it was?"

Kallias noticed, then, that all eyes were on him. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Like I told your friend Malfoy, feel free to hex me -- if you think you're able. As far as _Nott_ is concerned, he's made his bed... in more ways than one, so to speak. I didn't force him into anything, far from it actually -- he surely had no complaints _then_. And, as I've said, I'll not be broadcasting our little... _interlude_ to his father. If he chooses to tell him, however... well, I'm not too fussed either way."

Zabini's dark eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, returning to his dinner. Kallias did the same, but he was careful to not drop his guard. Beside Zabini, Nott was scowling as well, casting dark looks in Kallias's direction when he thought he wasn't looking.

Kallias observed this with pursed lips, sighing dramatically, leaning closer to the two boys so they wouldn't be overheard. "Look, Nott, I solemnly swear not to tell another living soul you've had your cock up my arse -- or that you enjoyed it. It wouldn't do for people to think you were _less than a man_, now, would it?" He turned on Zabini, then. "And don't think I've forgotten _you_ either, Zabini. My memories of that night are perfectly clear, and just like Nott, _you _didn't complain one bit. Now, I've said before that I'm not too fussed about the whole thing, really. What's a little pleasure among friends, after all? But clearly the two of you are so ridiculously repressed you feel the need to reestablish your masculinity, so by all means -- do your worst."

The two boys exchanged a look, but Kallias ignored it. He didn't have time to deal with this now. He wiped his mouth carefully and stood. "Well, children, it's been a pleasure, but I'm afraid I've a prior engagement."

With that, he strode from the Great Hall. He knew that someone was following him, he could feel the heat of their stare on his back. He waited until he was out of the castle proper before turning about.

"Headmaster," said Kallias with as much respect as he could muster, which is to say, very little.

Blue eyes studied him intently. "Mr. Prince, I wonder why it is you seem to be leaving school grounds."

Kallias arched an ebony brow. "I wasn't aware that it was against school rules to be out of doors now."

"It is inadvisable, given the times we are in, to wander about in the dark alone," Dumbledore said, instead.

Kallias made a noncommittal noise. "I shall take it under advisement, but for now, I've got business to attend to in Hogsmeade -- interviewing a new barrister. You see, I found my last one to be quite undependable. It's difficult, these days, to find someone you can trust... all too often, one finds betrayal at every juncture."

Dumbledore did not look the least bit contrite. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that, Mr. Prince. Perhaps during the day with a proper escort -- I'm certain Severus would be willing to accompany you -- you can conduct your interviews."

Kallias's smile was beatific. "I thought it might come to this," he murmured, thoughtfully, pulling out the parchment Lucius had enclosed within his letter and handing it over to Dumbledore. "I do hate to counter your authority, Headmaster, but it has become rather clear that when it comes to me, you are simply far too biased to make any rational decisions."

Dumbledore skimmed the letter fairly quickly, a frown forming on his face as he did so. He sighed.

"I trust everything is in order?" Kallias asked, cocking his head to the side.

"So it would seem," Dumbledore said at last, his tone heavy with what Kallias assumed to be worry.

"Very well, then. Good day, Headmaster." It was a clear dismissal which Dumbledore interpreted as such at once. His frown deepened, but he remained silent. Kallias gave him a short inclination of his head and then hurried off to Hogsmeade.

The Hog's Head was deserted save for a cloaked figure in the corner. Kallias knew almost immediately it was Lucius. His posture was regal even hidden beneath his cloak as it was. He gestured for Kallias to follow him out the door, and then once they were outside, grasped a hold of his arm and Apparated them away.

Kallias sneered once they reappeared in an elegant study. "Care to explain the change in venue?"

"You were followed," said Lucius in a clipped tone, removing his cloak. Kallias followed suit, ignoring the sneer Lucius directed towards his muggle clothing. Both cloaks winked out of existence -- house elves, no doubt.

"Followed you say?" Kallias remarked. "The headmaster I assume." He sighed. "That man is rather troublesome."

Lucius was now seated behind a large desk, pouring himself a tumbler of amber-colored liquid. "Indeed. Let's get to it, then, shall we? You wish for me to help you?"

Kallias nodded. "I do."

"In what manner? Forgive me, but as I said in my letter, I was rather surprised by your inquiry. We've not been on the best terms in our brief interactions..."He trailed off, giving Kallias a knowing look.

"I've found myself bereft of a... mentor for lack of a better word --"

"Lord Benefici," interjected Lucius. "Was he not your lover as well as your... _mentor_?"

Kallias shrugged, his expression indifferent. "If you wish to classify it as such, then, _yes_, we were intimately involved, but that is not what I require now."

Lucius's expression was unreadable. "And just what is it you require?"

"Political guidance. Lord Benefici is well-versed in politics, nearly second to none in the Roman Forum, as I'm sure you know. However, he is woefully lacking on what is required of a politico here in Britain. If I wish -- _and I do_ -- to maneuver the British political world as is my right as Lord Prince, I will be in need of some help. My father was a talented man in his own right, but I'm afraid politics were simply not his forte."

Lucius gave him a pointed look. "And you believe that politics are _my _forte?"

Kallias returned the look with one of his own. "There's no need to be coy, _Lord_ Malfoy. You know very well that politics are your forte. Let's be honest with one another. You are without a doubt the most ruthless politician I have ever met. You are persuasive, powerful, charismatic, everything needed to be a politician. If not for your age, I firmly believe that you would be the Minister for Magic."

For a moment, Lucius said nothing. "Do you really...?" His expression was unreadable, his tone dry.

Kallias nodded. "I do."

"Are you implying that Minister Fudge is not up to par?"

At this, Kallias shrugged. "It's not my place to say such things," he murmured deferentially. "I think that Britain is in need of some drastic changes. Changes that I do not believe Minister Fudge is prepared to implement."

"Such as..."

"The classification of certain magics. For example, many of the subjects I studied at the Conservatorio are considered borderline, and others are entirely illegal. Why should I restrict myself to using only magics that the Ministry of Magic approves of?"

Lucius looked almost thoughtful. "You believe that the Unforgivables should be made legal."

"Why not? You and I both know that there are far more creative, far more _resourceful _methods of harming a person than simply using the Cruciatus, far more painful ways to kill someone than to use the Killing Curse, and subtler ways to control people -- all using magic deemed permissible by the Ministry. Did not the Ministry itself condone the use of the Unforgivables during the last war?" asked Kallias.

"Indeed, and are you well acquainted with magics that the Ministry considers dark?"

Kallias shrugged once more. "The Romans do not differentiate in the same manner as the British. That is why I believe that the Ministry are infringing upon the rights of its citizens. Outlawing magic that has been passed down from generation-to-generation, father-to-son, for over a millennia. Are not the Malfoys one such family? Seems a pity that your future progeny may never reach their full potential because of the fear breeding throughout the country at this very moment..."

"You've not answered my question. Are you well acquainted with magics that the Ministry considers dark?" Lucius pressed.

"My magical talents lie in many different fields, Lord Malfoy. Some may be considered dark, yes," Kallias replied.

"You are currently pursuing an apprenticeship in Potions, however, with Sade de Medini. Is it your intention to utilize that upon graduation?" queried Lucius.

Kallias worded his response carefully. "I am required to stay in Britain until my 21st birthday or until I marry -- whichever comes first. While I am very much interested in potions, I am sorry to say that with the current regime, my area of expertise would not be very sought after here..."

Lucius's gaze sharpened. He looked quite interested in Kallias's area of expertise despite his practiced air of indifference. "And what, may I ask, is your area of expertise?"

Kallias slide his hand slowly aross the top of the no doubt centuries old desk. He was silent for a moment, contemplating what to say. He knew what sort of man Lucius Malfoy was. He cared very little for Kallias's views. What he would want to know was what Kallias could do for _him_, but Kallias knew he also must be careful. To give up too much information would be folly... to not give enough would be failure. "Were you aware that there are poisons that could kill you in mere seconds if only you inhale their fumes? Poisons that could liquefy every organ in your body and cause your blood and organs to seep through the pores in your skin?"

There was a sharp intake of breath. "You wish to be a _venoir_," he breathed.

"It is one of my many interests, but as I said before, I wish to enter the political arena. Will you help me?"

The answer was automatic. "Yes."


	14. Chapter 13

Alright, alright. I know you guys were probably wondering if I was still alive and well. I suffered a supreme bout of writer's block towards the end of the summer. Nearly all of my fics have half written unfinished chapters. I started school three weeks ago, however, and I am taking 18 credit hours (6 classes) of mostly senior level Philosophy and English courses. That being said, I will really attempt to update regularly, but I cannot say for certain. It all depends on if I can keep afloat of the massive reading I find myself force to do weekly.

Ohhh, and a venoir is a completely invented term by me. Veno is Latin for poison, so basically -- a venoir is a maker of poisons. But I don't claim that is an authentic term. I just made it up.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth t o be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Thirteen  
In which Kallias Miscalculates

Sade was waiting for him when he returned, and he was not alone.

"Productive meeting?" inquired Severus, lightly, his black eyes probing Kallias. Kallias's eyes narrowed at the Legilimency attempt.

"You should be aware that I've considered getting a Mastery in Mind Magics," he said, offhandedly, shucking his cloak and outer robes. "As such, any... mental intrusions are easily detected. It would behoove you, I should think, to refrain from such endeavors in the future."

Severus sneered. "Or? You'll go to the Board, will you?"

A slow smile played on Kallias's lips. "Going to the Board of Governors would be most ineffective, I believe. No, for something as malicious as an unwarranted mental invasion, I'd go to the Department of Law Enforcement office at the Ministry... Last I checked, perpetrators of mind magic received a stint at Azkaban of no less than three years for such. Of course, I'm not entirely unreasonable. I shan't turn you in just yet. Everyone deserves a second chance, so it seems..." His eyes flicked down to the man's arm before turning his obsidian gaze to Sade.

"As far as my meeting is concerned, it went quite well. In fact, I would go so far as to say it went _exceedingly _well."

Sade quirked an eyebrow. "Did it now?"

"Mmm-hmm. Lucius -- I mean, Lord Malfoy," at Kallias's slip, Severus nearly choked on his scotch, "and I were able to come up with a most beneficial arrangement. Not only did he agree to be my political guide, but he also had a rather unique proposition for me."

Severus posture was positively stony. Sade's was relaxed. He took a long sip of his scotch. "What sort of proposition? I wasn't aware that Lord Malfoy had such proclivities..."

Kallias's grin was lascivious. "Oh, he doesn't -- or so he says. No, he's simply agreed to finance the rest of my Mastery -- materials included."

Severus sucked in a harsh breath. Sade did not, though he did look faintly surprised. "That is... quite a generous offer, Kallias."

Beside him, Severus sneered. "You can't mean to accept this it."

"I already have," replied Kallias, reaching across the small table to pour himself two fingers of scotch. Before he could, however, a pale hand snaked out and grabbed a hold of his wrist.

"Of all the foolish things! You must know that he did not offer you this out of the goodness of his heart --" Severus began, tightening his grip on Kallias's arm.

Kallias interrupted him smoothly. "Of course he isn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart. I'm not a fool, whatever else you may think."

"Then _why_? Why would you do this?" His tone was odd, almost imploring. If Kallias didn't know better, he would almost think the man actually cared about him.

"Because I _can_. Because he has something I have need of -- because I have something _he_ has need of... It's not such a foreign concept is it? Lucius Malfoy is a brilliant politician and a _master_ orator. Even forgetting all that, his diverse connections will give me not only access to the more... _exotic_ ingredients needed for any future experiments, but also the money needed to fund said experiments. Why would I not accept such an offer?"

"For the very reasons you just listed, idiot boy! To allow yourself -- and even welcome it -- to be in Lucius Malfoy's debt is madness!" snarled Severus.

Kallias wretched his arm away from the angry man. "Then, perhaps I am mad," he said and paused for a moment. "You know, if I may be so bold as to say, you are rather more like Lucius Malfoy than you think you are. For someone who seems so righteously angry over me being treated as a mere object to use as one pleases, you have no qualms about doing so yourself. Only, unlike Lucius, I stand to gain nothing by any proposition you may have for me. Not only that, but for some odd reason, you believe that I should feel indebted to _you_ -- of all people. Why ever for? You didn't even know I was your son a fortnight ago, and I certainly didn't know anything of you. Severus Prince saw to that, didn't he? As such, any familial obligations I might have are to him alone -- and those, I assure you, I will see to, however begrudgingly I do so, eventually. I am not -- and never will consider myself to be -- your son. The sooner you coincide that fact, the better," Kallias said, softly. He turned to Sade and inclined his head. "I think I shall retire now. Good night, gentlemen."

The days following his meeting with Lucius were chaotic to say the least. It was the week before holidays and as such, the students were in a sort of pre-holiday frenzy. Kallias observed this rather indifferently. He had signed the parchment indicating he would be returning to his home -- and by home, he meant Prince Manor -- as soon as it was posted. Neither Severus nor the Headmaster had remarked upon it, but Kallias knew it was only a matter of time. Not that he cared if they objected. He wouldn't be alone as Sade would accompany him, so he felt quite certain they had no legitimate excuse for keeping him on castle grounds. Not that he didn't think they would _try_ as he knew they would, but it would only prove, to them, to be largely a waste of time.

He spent most days holed up in the Hogwarts library, perusing the Restricted Section, and pouring over Flamel's journals. He had found a comfortable study partner in the Granger girl and, surprisingly enough, a Ravenclaw by the name of Terry Boot who seemed to be rather fond of him. Zabini and Nott were sure to stay away from him, but for some reason he'd caught Malfoy watching him several times in the days leading up to the holidays.

Besides his studying, Kallias had also been in correspondence with Lucius. The man had requested a list of his repertoire which Kallias was only all too happy to provide along with a rather extensive list of the ingredients he would require for not only the poisons and potions on the list, but for his experiments as well. While Kallias was by no means a pauper, this part of the agreement was beneficial to him. If he didn't have to worry about this expense, he was free to spend his own fortune funding his alchemy. Lucius also had been kind enough to set up a meeting for him with several members of the Wizengamot when they returned to session after the New Year.

All in all, it had been a very productive if not uneventful week. He knew, however, that it was only a matter of time before things got back to usual.

He was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, nibbling on the end of his quill as he continued his perusal of Flamel's journals, when Malfoy approached him. Kallias knew he was there, of course, but he kept his eyes on the parchment before him for several long seconds until Malfoy cleared his throat softly.

Arching an ebony brow, Kallias looked up from his work. "Yes?" he inquired blandly.

"May I have a word with you?" Malfoy's lips were set in a tight line, his voice strained.

"You may," Kallias said before returning his attention to the book. "You may also have another, if you wish."

"Have you any plans for Christmas?" Malfoy continued, in a tone that stated he rather didn't care what Kallias was doing for _any _holiday -- and if he did care, he most certainly didn't wish to know.

"I can't say that I have," Kallias replied. "I am to spend the hols with my Apprentice Master at the Manor, but my schedule appears to be wide open." He flashed a bright grin at the Malfoy heir. "Why? Do you have _need _of me?"

"Certainly _not_," snarled Malfoy. He took a deep breath. "My father wishes me to extend you an invitation to the annual Christmas Ball held at Malfoy Manor. Your presence is desired."

Kallias paused. He shut the journal, softly, and placed it down in front of him, giving Malfoy a long, searching look. Oh yes, it seemed his presence _was_ desired, but he felt fairly certain that it was not either Malfoy that desired it. "Well, then, little Malfoy, if my presence is _desired_... who am I to deny you the undeniable pleasure of it? Perhaps, in the future, however, the party who truly desires my presence could come to me himself. I would appreciate it if you would convey that wish to him."

Malfoy blanched. Kallias grinned once more. "Nevermind, little Malfoy. I'll tell him myself. I've a meeting with him this weekend, after all."

Malfoy seemed to regain his composure. "You misunderstand me, Prince." He leaned down to hiss in Kallias's ear. "Our Master _requires_ your presence. You are to return to Malfoy Manor with me tomorrow when we depart from King's Cross Station."

For a moment, a frown flitted across Kallias's face before he allowed a look of boredom to settle on his face. He pulled away from Malfoy and shrugged. "Ah, well, we have a slight problem, then, for I have no master -- save for my Apprentice Master, of course, and Master de Medini has already given me leave to speI nd the winter holidays as I wish. I shall accept your invitation, of course, but I really must insist upon returning to Prince Manor. I've business to attend as is my responsibility now that I am Lord Prince. You understand, yes?"

Malfoy was quickly turning red. "No!" he hissed, emphatically, darting his hand out to grab Kallias by the shoulder. "You _must_ return home with me --" But Malfoy was interrupted.

"Is there a problem here?" Severus drawled. Malfoy straightened up immediately.

"No, Professor Snape, simply a misunderstanding. We will speak again, Prince," Malfoy finished before turning on his heel and stalking out of the Great Hall.

As Kallias watched him leave, a tightness began to form in his chest. He hadn't foreseen this small... complication.

"I think you and I are in need of a little dialogue," Severus was saying when Kallias turned back to him.

"Whatever for, Cousin? I think we've both said our peace -- _I_ certainly do not wish to speak to you." Kallias was very aware that they were attracting a bit of unwanted attention from the surrounding students.

But Severus would not yield. "Be in my office within the hour. I will be most displeased if I am forced to collect you." And, without waiting for a response, he was gone.

When Kallias returned to the dorm, it was empty save for Malfoy. He said nothing, which was rather unexpected, but he did extend an envelope, which was quite expected, to him. Kallias sighed, heavily. "I assume this... correspondence... will repeat the same invitation you've already made?"

Now it was Malfoy who shrugged. "It is not for me to question the Dark Lord." The _nor should you_ was left unsaid.

Kallias turned the envelope over in his hand several times, studying the creamy parchment, the smooth lines of calligraphy. When he looked back up, he was alone. He sank down onto his bed. He chewed on his bottom lip before opening the letter in one fluid motion.

_I find myself increasingly intrigued by the information I discover about you, young Prince. I look forward to discovering more in the coming weeks. _

_Until tomorrow -- _

_L.V. _

He very much wanted to frown, but he could feel Malfoy's gaze upon him. Instead, he shrugged. "If the Dark Lord really wishes for me to spend the holidays with him, then I suppose I _can_. It wouldn't do for me to deny him my company, now would it? Very well, little Malfoy, run along and let your Master know that I'll be coming, but he shan't expect me in residence for the duration of the holiday. I _do _have other obligations."

Malfoy gave him a rather triumphant smirk that Kallias couldn't wait to wipe off of his face. He knew just the thing to say to do so, in fact.

"Oh, and little Malfoy?" he called when Malfoy'd reached the door. "Do let your father know that I shall require a _personal_ audience with him upon our arrival, will you?"

Malfoy flushed a deep crimson, and for a brief second, Kallias felt sure he was going to hex him, but instead the Malfoy heir simply took a deep breath and exited the room.

Smiling to himself, Kallias quickly changed from his wizarding apparel to a pair of dark denim trousers and a cashmere jumper the color of cranberries. Severus abhorred all things Gryffindor, so Kallias tried to wear as much red and gold as he possibly could when forced to interact with him. He did so enjoy watching Severus's left eye twitch.

When Kallias arrived at his _dear father's _office, Severus was making a great show of grading a stack of parchment, but it was only too obvious that he had been waiting for him to come. With a sigh, Kallias dropped into one of the chairs directly in front of the desk.

"You wished to see me, sir?" asked Kallias a few moments later when it became apparent that Severus was not going to begin this conversation himself.

"Yes, I thought it prudent to inform you of our impending travel plans. I think it would be beneficial to both of us if we were to return to my home for the holidays. It would give us ample time to become acquainted with one another."

For a moment, _a very brief moment_, Kallias gaped. Then, he laughed. "You think I am returning,_ with you_, to your... home, did you say?... for the holidays?"

A fit of laughter silenced him for another moment or so. "I really hate to ruin what would like be the _last _holiday either of us celebrated, but I've plans for the holiday break -- plans that do _not_ require your presence."

Severus did not seem surprised by this or even phased in the slightest. "I really don't believe it is in your best interest to spend the holidays alone in Prince Manor."

A smile tugged on the corner of Kallias's lips. "Neither do I," Kallias wholeheartedly agreed. "And I have no plans to do so. I've been invited to spend the holidays at Malfoy Manor, and I just, this very morning in fact, sent my acceptance. So you see, I shan't be alone at all."

Severus blanched briefly before narrowing his eyes at Kallias. "I forbid you to go!"

"I'm afraid you haven't a choice in the matter," Kallias replied coolly. Not that _he_ had much choice, either, but that was neither here nor there.

"_I am your father!_" Severus all but snarled.

"In blood alone, legally I am a Prince. In actuality, I am of age. You have no claim on me. How many times must we have this same discussion? I grow tired of it." Kallias signed. He stood and strolled over to the door, stopping before he exited, but not turning around. "If you _truly_ wish to have a relationship of me, you should be aware that you are only succeeding in pushing me further away from you." He paused. "Although, perhaps that is exactly what you mean to do."

He closed the door quietly behind him.

The next morning, he full expected reinforcements to be sent. He was not disappointed. Rather the opposite, in fact. Breakfast had been a very loud affair. The holidays were upon the students of Hogwarts, and not even the thick layer or snow that covered the grounds could put a damper on their spirits. Kallias, however, disliked snow. He felt as if the chill in the air permeated his entire body down to his bones. Still, there was a certain expectation of excitement in the air.

Kallias ate his breakfast quickly, not wanting to spend a minute more here than he had to. Severus's gaze was burning holes in the back of his head. When he was finished, he wasted no time fleeing the room. However, he did not get very far. He was passing an alcove when someone grabbed him and with a force near violence pushed him against the stone wall.

Kallias gasped as he realized his assailant. Intense gray eyes held him in place. Eyes that fluttered close as their owner pressed himself fully against Kallias and captured his lips for a dominating kiss.

Whatever Kallias had been expecting, this was most certainly not it.


	15. Chapter 14

I have no excuse for the horrible wait other than university is time consuming! Hope you enjoy.

A Mother's Love

By _Koinaka _

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth t o be a liar;  
But never doubt I love."

_Hamlet. ACT II Sc. 2._

Chapter Fourteen  
In which Kallias is forced to act

Kallias scarcely had a moment to catch his breath when Sirius finally pulled away as the man's lips immediately descended down his throat nipping the sensitive skin there sharply.

"Oh... _oh!_" Kallias breathed as frantic fingers hurriedly undid his trousers. It wasn't until he felt Sirius's hand curl around him that Kallias realized exactly what was about to occur -- and in a corridor, no less. He _meant_ to stop, he truly did, but Sirius's descent hadn't stopped at his neck. The man's movements were frantic as if he expected Kallias to reject him at any moment. To be fair, Kallias had considered it -- if only _briefly_ -- but then Sirius's wicked mouth had reached its destination and all coherent thought left Kallias in favor of the positively divine sensations brought on by said mouth.

If Kallias had been thinking properly, he would have known that something else was behind Sirius's actions. But he hadn't been thinking properly. He'd allowed himself to be ruled by pleasure. Not only that, but he'd underestimated just how depraved Albus Dumbledore could be. It didn't take long, however, once the tremors had subsided for his mind to clear. Rage beyond anything he'd felt up until that very moment filled him. Before Sirius could even blink, Kallias had pulled out his wand and trained it on the man.

"I don't even know who to be angry at more," Kallias mused. "At myself, for falling for such a blatant act of manipulation or you, for resorting to performing sexual favors on behalf of Dumbledore..."

Sirius's gray eyes widened and his swollen lips gaped. "It's not what you think!" he sputtered at once.

"Oh?" queried Kallias, softly, twirling his wand expertly in his fingers. "Then, you weren't hoping that if you took me to your bed I would relent and spend the holidays here instead of at Malfoy Manor...?"

But Sirius could not in all honesty say yes. "I did hope you would stay, but not for the reason you think! And Dumbledore certainly didn't send me here to... perform sexual favors for him!" Gray eyes bore into obsidian ones."That was all me. They -- Snape and Dumbledore -- have forbade me from seeking you out! They would never -- _I _would never do something like that. I've been trying to get you out of my head, but I _can't_. It's wrong, I know it is -- you're my _godson_, but all the same, I want you. You can't know how wretched I feel about it."

Kallias closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he allowed his lips to curl into a sneer. "You feel wretched, do you? I can't imagine why. I'm not even a blood relation. Growing up as you did, I would think not even _that_ would be a deterrent."

Sirius paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Kallias's voice turned mocking. "Come now, Sirius, don't be coy. The depravity of the Blacks is well known after all. Tell me, _godfather_, how is your brother these days?"

Sirius blanched and then flushed hotly, his hand gripping his wand so tightly, his knuckles were white with the effort.

"Do you think me a fool?" Kallias continued. "You must have known that even if you had succeeded in convincing me not to go to Malfoy Manor -- which you most certainly have _not_ -- that I would not remain here at Hogwarts." As he spoke, Kallias deftly re-buttoned his trousers and ran a hand through his tousled hair. When he felt certain that everything was in order, he spoke again. "And I thought I told you to refrain calling yourself my godfather. You may be the godfather of Harry Potter, but you certainly are not _my_ godfather. Now, as much as I would stay and here your inane, not to mention incoherent, babbling I must be off. It wouldn't do to miss the train now would it."

Before Sirius could utter another word, Kallias turned to leave. He stopped as he was about to turn the corner to excite the alcove. "If you continue to push me, you and Dumbledore, that is, I'll be forced to join your little war -- only for the opposite side."

Sirius' gray eyes widened comically. "You _can't!_" the man exclaimed, aghast. "You have obligations, responsibilities..."

Kallas narrowed his dark eyes. "If you so much as breath the word _Harry Potter_, I swear that I will endeavor to do whatever I can to ensure that the remainder of your life is quite painful," Kallias hissed, but if Sirius spoke further, Kallias took no notice as he turned on his heels and promptly stalked towards the Entrance Hall to make his way to the station, thanking the deities that he'd had the forethought to send his luggage with a house elf.

The train ride turned out to be quite tedious. He'd found an empty compartment he was more than happy to have stay empty -- save himself, of course -- and had plans on spending the journey reading one of Flamel's journals. It seemed this was not to be as within moments, he was very much not alone. He was joined by the Malfoy heir and his followers.

"Prince, good to see you follow directions well," Malfoy said with a sneer. "I hate to think what our... _guest_.. would do if you hadn't shown, and you're actually properly attired. I'd be inclined to be impressed if I cared for you one whit."

Kallias smiled prettily at Malfoy, his obsidian eyes glittering in amusement. "How kind of you to notice my attire. I daresay you noticed this morning. Why, you scarcely took your eyes off of me -- not that I blame you. I am rather striking. No need to feel any shame on being impressed by your betters -- and I _am_ your better." Kallias' eyes flitted down Malfoy's impeccable if not a bit old fashioned robes. "You know, if we are to be friends, then I simply must insist on taking you shopping. Perhaps we can make a trip to the continent over the hols. Seems a shame for you to be wearing those... well, if you've nothing more, then I suppose you can't help it..." Kallias trailed off, cocking his head to the side.

"You shut your mouth, Prince!" snarled Malfoy, pointing his wand in what he supposed might be a threatening manner.

Kallias heaved a sigh and closed his book, arching an eyebrow at Malfoy. "I don't think I will," he said and paused, his lips curling in amusement, "and you ought to rethink the way you speak to me. I shudder to think of what would happen to _you_ should I decide to inform our guest -- and mutual friend -- how you've treated me. And do put that wand away. You're scarcely a match for me. Of course, I can prove it to you, if you insist, but I rather thought you might not want to be proved a fool. Especially in front of your little girlfriend," Kallias finished, indicating Pansy Parkinson beside Malfoy. Both Parkinson and Malfoy flushed though for different reasons -- Malfoy, anger and Parkinson, embarrassment.

When it seemed, _thankfully, _that Malfoy was not going to speak further -- for the moment, Kallias had no delusion that he would, in fact, be forced to listen to his ranting at some later date -- Kallias reopened his book and continued to read.

"Your robes _are _rather old fashioned, Draco," said the Parkinson girl, pointedly. Kallias caught her unhappy gaze as he lazily turned a page in his book.

Malfoy scoffed. This caused Parkinson to titter softly in disapproval which in turn caused Malfoy to grimace, and Kallias' lips to curl into a mocking smile.

"What's _he_ know about fashion, anyway?" muttered Malfoy darkly. "I'll have you know that _my_ apparel is the best that money can buy --"

Parkinson sighed. "_Here_ maybe, but there's an entire..." she paused, seeming to search for the proper word before continuing, "_world_ of fashion out there, Draco. We should take Lord Prince up on his generous offer. His robes really _are_ all of the rage on the continent..."

Kallias suppressed a sigh and concentrated on blocking out the inane conversation surrounding him. He may enjoy fashion, but he certainly didn't enjoy sitting here and listening these two chatter on about it. His robes weren't all that much different than Malfoy's were in retrospect. In fact, he could very easily obtain the more traditional robes preferred by British wizarding society, if he wanted. He had spent his childhood wearing clothing very similar to Malfoy's, hadn't he? It was only since his arrival at school that he had been exposed to the myriad of fashion choices out there. Robes like his, robes were worn form fitting and open at the front, had only recently become popular within the elite wizarding youth of Italy. His, in particular, had been custom made for him. They were of the darkest black, an inky black color, that contrasted his ivory skin quite drastically. The button-down shirt and his trousers were the same inky black color and were just as formfitting as the robe. All in all, the only color in his entire ensemble was an intricate silver snake that coiled along where the button-holes would have been had there been any. He had chosen this specially for his meeting with the Dark Lord.

A meeting that he would be foolish to say he wasn't a bit worried about. He wasn't prone to fretting, normally, and he didn't intend to start now, but it would be just as foolish for him to let his bravado allow him to become complacent. The Dark Lord, no matter how Kallias may mock him, was an exceedingly powerful man. Even now, the mere _memory_ of the way the man's magic had danced over Kallias's skin was enough to cause him to shudder...

"_Prince!_" snarled a particularly irritated Malfoy. "We've arrived."

Kallias sighed and pulled himself from his reverie. With only the slightest hesitation, Kallias tucked his book back into his bag and exited the carriage behind Malfoy and Parkinson.

His jaw snapped shut and clenched tightly when he noticed the man standing immediately to Lucius Malfoy's right. _Severus_. Somehow the man had beaten the train here, and for what purpose? To accost Kallias in a more public venue, such as where they were currently located -- Platform 9 3/4s --was folly.

He took a deep breath and approached them, ignoring Malfoy behind him struggling to keep up.

"Lord Malfoy," murmured Kallias, inclining his head, a coy smile on his lips as he stared at Lucius below his full eyelashes. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't attracted to Lucius, but he was much more interested in heckling Severus than seducing Lucius.

A small, almost _knowing_, smile appeared on the man's lips. He took Kallias's hand in his own for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers lingering as he released them. Amusement filled Kallias as he heard Severus's sharp intake of breath. "I insist you call me Lucius."

"Very well. I will endeavor to do so if, of course, you would extend the same courtesy to myself. We're to be working quite closely together from now on, so it seems only natural to drop the formalities, don't you agree?" Kallias said, arching a brow, daring Severus to utter _one_ word.

"May I have a word with you, Kallias?" murmured Severus, an intent look upon his face.

"I'm afraid that simply isn't possible," Kallias said, shaking his head with a soft sigh. "I believe we've exchanged all of the words needed for the moment, _Cousin_," he placed a delicate emphasis on the word, "however, perhaps I could spare a moment or two of time for you at the upcoming ball, should you attend, of course."

The smile that appeared on Lucius's face at that was beatific. "You will attend, Severus, won't you? It has been quite some time since you have attended one of our balls, and I daresay you will be well received by all of our mutual _friends_ -- some more than others."

Kallias had to admit that whatever else Severus was, he wasn't a fool. His face was carefully blank, no emotions flitting across it at all though Kallias well knew that Severus was very much aware just who Lucius' friend was. "As I have explained to you on several occasions, Lucius, I am unable to leave Hogwarts during the holidays as I'm duty bound to oversee my charges. If it were possible for me to leave, I assure you I would attend. I do, however, insist upon speaking to you, Kallias, before allowing you to leave."

Kallias cocked his head to the side. "Is that so?" he asked, blandly. "I can't imagine what you have to say to me that hasn't already been said."

"Plenty, you'll find," Severus said, tersely.

Lucius cleared his throat. "We can spare a moment, Kallias, if it is needed."

Sighing, Kallias nodded. Severus turned without another word and stalked away. Kallias followed for a moment. When they were alone, Severus turned to face him. "Have you any sense at all?" he demanded harshly. "Surely you know who is laying in wait for you at Malfoy Manor, you impudent boy!"

"Of course I do. I'm not a fool."

"Then, you must see reason!" Severus snarled. "Return with me to Hogwarts at once!"

"Why should I? I've no reason to do so. In fact, it has become very plain, to me, that Hogwarts is not the best place for me at all. I do believe that it would be better, for everyone involved, that I not return after the holidays. I'm quite certain I will have no trouble obtaining more than adequate tutors."

Severus' obsidian eyes widened in rage. "You will do no such thing!" He bellowed.

"Is there a problem, Severus?" asked Lucius, coming up behind the pair.

Severus took a deep breath in an obvious attempt to calm himself. "No, of course not."

Lucius peered curiously at Severus for a long moment. "Come along, then, Kallias, the port-key is set to activate any moment. I've had Tobby take your luggage ahead," he said.

Kallias inclined his head at Lucius before turning to the other man. "Good-bye, Severus. I _do_ hope you have a happy holiday."

Kallias could feel Severus' eyes on him as they walked away. However, before he had time to think further on the man, they had reached their destination. Lucius pulled out a thimble, and Kallias scarcely had time to put a digit on the object before he felt the pull at his navel begin.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," intoned Lucius as they straightened themselves up.

A precursory look around the room told Kallias it was far different from Prince Manor yet frighteningly similar. It was wide open with high arched ceilings and large floor length windows that filled the room with sunlight. Well, what sunlight there was to be had there in England. It was in a word: breathtaking.

As if on cue, a tall blond haired woman appeared in the door way. "Welcome home, Draco!" she trilled, rushing to their sides and gathering her son up in her arms. He appeared a bit stiff in her arms but relaxed a bit. Kallias was oddly entranced by the scene despite himself. Only after relinquishing hold of her son and pulling herself back a bit did she acknowledge Lucius with a terse greeting. Then, her eyes landed on him, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, so slight that Kallias may not have even noticed had he not been waiting for it. He knew very well that his reputation had proceeded him as far as Narcissa Malfoy was concerned.

"This is a surprise, Lord Prince," she said, finally, her voice dry. "Draco, I was unaware that you had invited one of your friends home for the holidays."

It was Lucius, not Draco, however, that answered her. "Kallias is here as my personal guest at the request of the Dark Lord, Narcissa," he informed the woman in a cold tone, "do try to behave yourself accordingly, hmm? It wouldn't do for either of our guests to feel unwelcome here, would it?"

Her eyes narrowed further, her hand twitching at her side for the briefest of moments before her face cleared. "I apologize if I have implied otherwise, Lord Prince, but you are, of course, welcome here."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Malfoy," said Kallias, smoothly, "and to have the opportunity to attend what is sure to be a spectacular ball. I've never had the opportunity to attend before, of course, but I have heard nothing but wonderful things. If only a tenth of what I've heard is true, then I am sure to enjoy it."

A soft flush appeared on Narcissa's pale cheeks. "I only hope it is to your standards, then, Lord Prince. I won't keep you gentleman. Dinner will be served within the hour."

Lucius nodded once before beckoning Kallias forward. "If you would follow me, I will show you to your room. You should have more than enough time to refresh yourself before dinner is served."

"Thank you," murmured Kallias before offering a polite goodbye to Narcissa and Malfoy.

As he followed Lucius to what appeared to be the guest wing, Lucius told him the history of the architecture, the paintings, and the furnishings the passed in a bored voice that bellied the number of times the man had given the same speech before. "This suite is to be yours for the duration of your stay, and any other stay you may have in the future." Lucius told him when they stopped for a set of dark ornate doors. "The only other occupant on this wing is the Dark Lord. His rooms are on the opposite end of the hallway."

Lucius needn't have told Kallias the man was on the same floor, however. Kallias had known immediately the man was in residence upon arriving. He could feel the trill of the man's magic, however faint it may have been the moment the port-key deposited them into the manor. Now, especially, he could feel the man's magic. It danced tantalizingly across his skin. He just barely suppressed a shudder.

"-- you can, of course, call a house elf, should you require anything further," Lucius continued.

Kallias thanked Lucius again, and then Lucius swept down the hall, leaving Kallias alone to his thoughts. His room was much more to his liking than his lodgings in Hogwarts. He sighed in contentment as he allowed himself to fall back on the luxuriously soft bed. He relished in the feel of the soft fabric on his hands.

Not even fifteen minutes later, a sharp knock resounded on his door, startling out of the near slumber he had fallen into. He opened the door only slightly surprised to see Draco on the other side.

"Yes?" inquired Kallias, taking in Draco's sneer and narrowed eyes.

"I'm to escort you to my father's study for a brief interlude before dinner," answered the boy, his words practically a snarl.

"Are you really? Well, then, by all means..." Kallias drawled.

Malfoy escorted him to the study in absolute silence though Kallias could tell there was a biting remark on the tip of his tongue. Upon entering the room, Kallias fixed his eyes on the Dark Lord Voldemort. The man was sitting behind the large mahogany desk. His heartbeat sped up as he moved closer to the Dark Lord, trying in vain to ignore the feel of the man's magic as he lowered himself into one of the many chairs in front of the desk.

The Dark Lord's proximity and the lengthy silence that lapsed gave Kallias the opportunity to study the man's appearance. At second glance, the man was a great deal older than Kallias first thought. Though not as old as Dumbledore, by any means, he was far older than Ralphi. That is not to say that he was unattractive because he certainly was or that he appeared infirm because he certainly did not, it was that he held the gait of the experienced. His crimson eyes bespoke his knowledge of the black arts.

As Kallias studied the Dark Lord, he felt the tell-tale brush of Legilimancy against his mental shields. He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips as he reinforced them. He made a low _tsking_ noise in the back of his throat. "I wonder if it is a British thing, this tendency to unwarranted and unwelcome mental invasion. My dear cousin and the Headmaster have both made several attempts. Fortunately, none of them were successful. That is not to say that _you_ might not be, of course. I daresay you are a great deal more talented, not to mention more powerful, than they. You may find, however, that I am quite amenable to answering your questions if only you ask. That is, after all, why you've ... _requested_... my presence here today, is it not?"

The Dark Lord's crimson eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. "You are either very foolish or very brave, Prince, to speak to me with such disrespect..." The man trailed off, his voice was soft belying the obvious threat within his words.

"I mean no disrespect," murmured Kallias, truthfully. "I merely speak the truth."

Another silence lapsed before the man ceased his inquisitive gazing at Kallias. "You are a mystery, Prince, and unlike others, I do not enjoy mysteries. I find the secrecy surrounding you both cumbersome and suspicious. Tell me, why is it that there are no records of your birth within the British Isles? In fact, before October of 1981, it seems that Kallias Prince did not exist at all."

Kallias heartbeat quickened, but no emotion showed on his face. He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "I really couldn't say. My father is dead as is my mother. I don't see why something as inconsequential as the circumstance of my birth is any concern of yours."

The man's eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits, and he pulled himself up out of his chair. "_Crucio!_" he hissed angrily as he trained his wand on Kallias before Kallias had an opportunity to react.

The feeling of a hundred white-hot pokers piercing his skin overwhelmed Kallias. It was gone just as quickly, however, leaving behind only a lingering pain along with the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. He must have bitten his tongue at some point. With some effort, he picked himself off of the floor and settled back into his chair.

"You _will_ speak to me with the respect I am due," the man snarled.

"Or?" countered Kallias, licking the blood from his lips, his breath coming out in pants. "You will continue to curse me perhaps even _kill _me? I don't doubt you've the ability, but it seems like such a waste. You are the one, after all, that requested my presence not the other way around. You obviously had a reason for wishing to see me. It seems counterproductive to harm someone, especially someone that you could potentially benefit from."

The Dark Lord sneered. "What could _you_, a mere schoolboy, have that would benefit me?"

Kallias shrugged once more. "Perhaps nothing," he conceded. "But if I were you, I would be wary of making an enemy of others simply because you are ignorant of the skills they may possess. A schoolboy I may be, but I think you will find that my education is more intricate than other schoolboys you may have come across."

"And what skills, Prince, do you possess?"

"No doubt Lucius has imparted to you my skills in Potions."

The Dark Lord regarded him indifferently. "I've already got the services of a Potions Master. What need do I have of another?"

"Do you really?" inquired Kallias, blandly. "Well, then, if you've no use for a venoir, I certainly won't take up any more of your time." He stood quickly and strolled to the door. He found, however, that the door was firmly locked.

"_I did not dismiss you!_"

Now it was Kallias' turn to regard the Dark Lord but in anger, not indifference. "I'm afraid you must be laboring under a misconception. I am not one of your Death Eaters, and I most certainly do not take kindly to being ordered about as if I were. I have no desire to take part in your little civil war. In fact, if I were not forced to remain here in Britain until I turn twenty-one, I would not give one whit about it at all. I care very little for blood purity, and even less for the ideals championed by Albus Dumbledore. If it were up to me, as I've said, I would remain impartial to either side. Unfortunately, it has become clear that neutrality is no longer a viable option. This is most certainly to your benefit. Well, if you give any credence to prophecy, that is."


	16. AN

Hey everyone!

Updates have been ridiculously slow in coming, I know. I've no excuse other than school and a general lack of motivation. However, a break from school, work, and writing has given me a much needed push to finish things up. The only problem being that I have far too many fics. I cannot possibly update them all with any regularity once school commences next week. So, what I have decided to do is take a vote. The two fics garnering the highest votes will be the ones updated weekly until they are finished. I also will be making thorough outlines (something I have not done in the past) for the other fics. I am not abandoning any fic, so you need not worry! :D I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a lovely New Year.

_~ Koinaka_

Feel free to pm me with any questions you may have.


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